Shortcuts
by gryffindorroar
Summary: "Bloody everything is rubbish. Rubbish is rubbish. Homework's rubbish. Gam-a-fucking-tronica is rubbish. Louis I'm-going-to-choose-to-start-dating-seriously-now- to-piss-off-my-handsome-cousin Weasley is rubbish. In fact, he's the epitome of rubbish. All rubbish hails down to him and his supreme rubbishness. You wanna know why? 'Cause he's such bloody rubbish." Love's rough JSP/OC
1. Of Midnight Excursions and the Finnigans

**A/N: Hi there! An idea sort of popped into my head a while ago and I decided to pursue it and, well, here are the results. This is a short chapter only because it's more of a prologue kind of thing and also, it was far too awkward to end it anywhere else. Read and review!**

James Sirius Potter was in some deep, deep shite.

And this was definitely not the first time he had been in trouble before.

This was not the first time he had provoked Albus (and certainly not the last). This was not the first time a broad had threatened to gouge his eye out with her stilettos (definitely not the last time that'll happen). This was also not the first time two birds, twins, at that, had simultaneously threatened to do so (James fervently hoped it would be the last, as well, but it likely wouldn't be). This was not the first time plans of the snogging kind had gone horribly wrong (hopefully the last time). This was not the first time James had thanked Godric he had an invisibility cloak and a map that showed him where everyone in the school was at all times (irrevocably not the last time- thanking Godric for these delightful inventions was a part of his nightly ritual). This was not the first time James had sought refuge in an abandoned classroom at a late hour in the night (he's named after two of Hogwarts' greatest mischief-makers and he's Harry Potter's son, do the math). As you can see, our James never quite learns his lesson, what with all the not-firsts.

This was, however, the first time he'd been caught.

"What in the name of Merlin's baggy y-fronts are you doing there?" A female voice rang out, displaying the deserted classroom's fine acoustics. _Why ever did they abandon it, with acoustics like this?_ James thought. _Oh, yeah, I guess the _hole forming on the floor underneath my arse _answers that_. A girl leaned against the doorframe, amusement clearly written across her features. James tensed up, realizing his invisibility cloak had fallen off and he didn't know where, which generally presents a problem with invisible objects.

He slowly turned his head to face the door, letting out a breath of relief when he noticed it was neither Albus nor one- or both- of the Finnigan twins, but rather some other girl. He gave her a quick once-over, taking in the lack of clothing (_Pyjamas are the _best_,_ James mentally sighed). She raised her eyebrows slightly. _Oh, yes. She asked a question. It'd probably be a good idea to answer._

"Baking some biscuits," he said. _Never lose the sarcasm, even in potentially dangerous situations._ "Care to join?"

"Ooh, testy," she said somewhat tauntingly. James grunted, his focus now entirely on the map. That lasted for about, oh, two seconds, until James found himself staring at her legs. "Well, all right then. I can see I'm not wanted. I guess I should just go and _not_ tell you that I saw Aiden and Kenna Finnigan walking about around here, muttering something like 'dungbomb up his arse.'" She sighed dramatically and began to walk away slowly, waiting for it to soak in.

"In five, four, three, two-" she muttered.

There was a loud crashing noise and a helpless plea of "Wait!" coming from the classroom. The witch, who James had begun to call Gam-a-tronica, smiled then spun around on her heel.

She cocked her head to the side. "I thought you were busy baking biscuits," she said. "You really mustn't leave them there- they might burn!"_ Oh, ha ha. You're so funny, Gam-a-tronica. A right laugh._

"Which way?" James asked, his eyes wildly searching the hallway for anywhere the likely homicidal twins could be hiding.

Gam-a-tronica shrugged. "Can't be sure."

James glared at her. "Right then, so you're a Slytherin."

"Beg your pardon?" she said, looking genuinely confused.

"Well, I was trying to figure out which house you're in since I don't recognize you." He glanced at her legs and wondered exactly why it was that he hadn't seen her before. "So that ruled out Gryffindor. I knew you weren't a Hufflepuff, so that left Ravenclaw and Slytherin. But you were too minx-y to be in Ravenclaw, so that leaves Slytherin, which makes perfect sense."

"Erm, no." She bit her lip to keep from giggling, and stared at him patronizingly. James looked a tad disconcerted.

He shook his head and snapped out of it. "'S no matter." He waved his hand, dismissing his error. "Which way?"

"I don't think I'm going to tell you until you guess which house I'm in," she said decisively. "More fun this way." Gam-a-tronica winked wickedly.

James groaned. "Ravenclaw then?" She shook her head, smiling sadistically. "Hufflepuff?" he said desperately. She hooks her head. "What, then? _Gryffindor?_" he scoffed. Gam-a-tronica nodded. "No. No! There's no way you're a Gryffindor. I know _every_ Gryffindor. Nice try, my snake friend, but you have not fooled me, no sir!" James said, thinking he'd outsmarted Gam-a-tronica.

"I think I know what house I'm in, thank you very much," she sniffed.

"I think you need to get your head checked then, love, 'cause there's _no way_ you're a Gryffindor," James said stubbornly.

"How else did you think I knew you'd be down here, quaking in your boots?" she quipped back, slowly growing irate at his persistence to ignore the truth.

"Al? _Al _told you?" he said disbelievingly. "_Al_ told you to tell me the twins would be down here?" She nodded, as if to say, "Um, _yeah_." James raised his eyebrows slightly. "But _why_?"

"I believe he said something about 'makes it more fun if the bastard's about to shite his pants,'" Gam-a-tronica shrugged and played with the hem of her shorts.

James made a noise that sounded like the lovechild of a snort and a growl. "Little bugger." He cleared his throat. "So let me get this straight. He sent you down here to tell me the Finnigan twins were down here and scare the piss out of me?"

She grinned evilly. "Pretty much. I was already coming down here, but Albus asked me to do him a favor. He owes me _four_ chocolate frog now."

"Wait, you're _mates_?" James asked. Gam-a-tronica and his younger brother were friends and he didn't know her. She was in his bloody _house_, and, by the looks of it, the same year, yet he didn't know her. She was also far too fit for him not to know her. Was she a _hermit_?

"Er, _yeah_. Been mates for quite some time now. Even dated a bit."

"You _dated _him?" James sputtered. Was _he _a hermit?

"And your best mate."

"And my best mate," he repeated stupidly. _Fred._ She dated _Fred_ and he didn't know her. Maybe they were _all _hermits?

"Mm-hmm. Ruddy good kisser, but a bit touched in the head," she said, picking at her nails. She glanced at her watch and nodded towards the door to the classroom. "Well, as I said, I had other reasons to come down here other than scare you shite-less, so…" she trailed off, hoping he'd get the hint.

"Oh! Yeah. Meeting someone? Boyfriend?" James asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, really starting a mantra in his head that went _please say no, please say no, _and please_ say no_.

"No, he's probably in the common room. I'm here to, er, retrieve something," she said, gesturing to a shirt that had been flung across an old desk in the corner.

James mentally frowned, but showed no outward sounds of disappointment at Gam-a-tronica's "taken" status. "Oh, you're a kinky one, then," he said, winking roguishly at her.

"Cheeky little bugger, aren't you?"

"I try."

"I see that. Well, I'd best be going- shirts to put away, Potions essays to bullshit my way through; the usual." She was about to turn away, when James called after her.

"Wait!" He needed a few answers. For one thing, if Gam-a-tronica didn't have plans to meet with her boyfriend, why was she wearing pyjamas that were, though easy on the eyes, admittedly unnecessarily revealing and scant? From the mental persona James had created for Gam-a-tronica (which was totally accurate- she enjoyed quidditch, Honeydukes, and throwing things at people), she was not particularly slaggish.

"I have a question. You say you have a boyfriend who is currently in the common room, yes?" he said, arms crossed over his chest in thoughtfulness. Gam-a-tronica nodded, curious to see where he was going with this. "And, pardon my frankness, you're wandering about the castle wearing a decisively scant amount of clothing, though not for the benefit of your boyfriend's viewing pleasure as he is nowhere _near_ here, and you're also facing being caught by Filch who is not known for his kindness and understanding. Just what are you up to, love?"

Gam-a-tronica looked a little nonplussed. James couldn't blame her; most women became speechless at the sight of him, let alone during his displays of unmatched wit. "Not as dumb as he looks, folks," she murmured to herself. _Damn straight_.

"Now, Mr. Potter, you've really got to learn better manners!" she teased. James looked down at the ground abashedly, though it was more for show (okay, _all_ for show- he was proud to have rendered Gam-a-tronica speechless). "Most people, especially myself, would have hexed you six ways from Sunday by now but apparently I'm in a forgiving mood today so I'll allow you to leave unscathed. As for my attire, or lack thereof as you so graciously pointed out, there is a reason why I am dressed as such," she said in a mock-proper tone, teasingly dragging out the very simple answer to his even simpler question.

"That being?" James prompted, rolling onto the balls of his feet eagerly.

"As you said before, I'm likely to be caught by the ever so compassionate Filch. And, as inhumanly evil as he may seem, he is still just a man. A perverted, sick, _lonely_ man who hasn't been laid in Merlin knows how long. He tends to be a little more tolerant when girls are dressed like this, we can easily con our way out of detention if it's not too late after curfew, and right now I'm pushing the envelope a little, but I really needed my shirt and Al promised me sugar." Gam-a-tronica glanced at her watch, then back up at James. "Now I've _really _got to go, so good luck and good night."

"Good luck?" James asked, confused and still trying to process the fact that Filch was a randy old man.

"Yeah, I wasn't twisting your arm earlier- the Finnigan twins really are down here, stilettos and all," she said. James eyes widened and he dove back to his hiding place, his hand miraculously grazing the soft fabric of his invisibility cloak, which he immediately threw over himself. Gam-a-tronica seemed to be gone and James cursed himself for not asking what her name was. Oh, wait. He had a map that showed everyone in the bloody school.

His eyes sought out the path from the Snog Deck (a part of the castle with abandoned classrooms in which couples frequently shag or snog) to the Gryffindor Common Room on the map, and found her dot. _Her name's Artemis Portelo_, he thought. _Huzzah! _He followed her dot into the common room then tried to locate Albus so he could know where he was when James wanted to strangle him, but it was to no avail. Then James remembered exactly _why_ he had the map out and sought out Artemis's dot, finding it placed quite close to another dot. _That'd be her boyfriend_. James squinted trying to make out the names, which was rather hard as Gam-a-tro-_Artemis_ appeared to be sitting on her boyfriend's lap, making their names overlap. _Come on, just move a bit, love, come on, come on. Yes!_ He mentally cheered as Artemis moved enough so James could read her boyfriend's name, which he then did. But was that before or after the bit where he screamed and lit a few things on fire?

Because, surely enough, that name was Louis Weasley.

Which presented a bit of a problem.

Double bloody fucking _shit_.

**A/N: Hey! You did it! I'm proud of you, really. Now, just a note, the Finnigan twins' names were chosen because they mean fire and, well, we all know how much our Seamus enjoys blowing things up. Next time on Shortcuts, James stalks his family begging for answers (no doubt acting calm, cool and collected), Harry and Ginny pop in for a bit, and we have a few encounters with our dear Gam-a-tronica (Yes, I watch ANTP)/Artemis/Louis's girlfriend.**

**Plus, James gets beat up by his little sister!**

**Read and Review for the non existent cookies I feel obliged to offer you.**


	2. Not Just for Shits and Giggles

**A/N: Hello again! I got a few reviews and subscribers (thank you for those ****) so I'm posting the next chapter. I know! It's so soon! Well, I've had quite a bit of time to get some of this fanfic ready so I have a few chapters already done, but after that- Merlin knows what'll happen. So, questioning and beat-up-by-his-younger-sister James, just as promised! Read on, my brave subscribers.**

"Al! Just the ponce I wanted to see!" James cried, grabbing his brother's robes as he tried to escape and dragging him along. Albus mouthed, "_help me_" to his friends but they only gave him sheepish grins and shrugged. The last time they had intervened in a Weasley-Potter-Lupin affair they'd ended up stuck speaking in rhyme for a week.

"Stupid, ruddy mates." Al murmured under his breath, strangely at ease with the fact his brother looked like he hadn't slept all night and had a slightly giddy and crazed look on his face, similar to the one on his face when he released one hundred nifflers into the Great Hall the last day of his fourth year. "So, James, care to tell me where we're going? 'Cause if it's about Rose and Scor, there's only so many times we can threaten him with the Sword of Gryffindor, he's starting to question that we've actually got it," he said, trying to portray a nonchalant and oblivious exterior, as if he _hadn't_ nearly pushed his brother to suicide last night.

"No, no, nothing like that. Though I've been thinking- maybe we could tell Uncle Ron where Rose _really_ was that Christmas Party and see where that goes." _Yes!_ Albus mentally cheered. _Thank goodness for James's pea brain._

"James, I'd rather my best mate be _alive_ or at least still be able to walk again.

"With Uncle Ron, the chances of that happening if we tell him are slim to none." James halted in front of an unused History of Magic classroom and shoved Albus in. "In you get, Twig-sicle." _Perhaps _not_ so easily distracted after all_, Albus thought apprehensively.

"OI! What did I say about calling me that?" _Calm, cool, and collected. Calm, cool, and collected. Calm, cool, and co-_

"That's so cute. You think you have a right to be angry at me right now," James said sweetly, his voice oozing sarcastic unicorns and rude rainbows. Albus cringed. This was not good. When the sweet voice came out, so did the claws.

"C'mon, you've got to admit I got you good. Didn't I, _Ju-ju-bear_?" Albus said scathingly, hoping to keep face for as long as possible. _Escape route, escape route, come on, all I need is an escape route…_

James gasped. "Oh, you did _not_ just go there. Fine, I guess mum'll have to know about what that 'funny pumpkin juice' really was, hmm Al?" Albus's emerald eyes widened to the size of pie tins. _Okay, done keeping face now_, he thought.

"So, um, err… What did you want to see me for, James?" Al asked carefully, his eyes still portraying fear. There was only one thing as equally scary as a pissed Potter – a pissed Weasley. And a pissed Weasley _mother_, at that.

James smiled, sensing he'd won this time, and sat on a desk gesturing Al to do the same. Albus nervously sat down on his seat, his hand automatically fingering the pocket in which his wand was held. "Let's _talk_," James said. "I feel like we never get to just _talk_ anymore, you know?"

Albus narrowed his bright emerald eyes. "You… You just want to talk," he said slowly, not quite sure what James was playing at.

"Not really," James said, grinning wickedly. He pulled out his wand, and Albus hastily tried to find his but it seemed to be missing from his pocket. "_Densaugeo_!" Albus's teeth began to enlarge before his eyes. And there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. "Furnunculus!" Boils appeared all over Albus's body. James grinned.

Albus growled and decided that since he was wandless to take the physical route and charged towards James. "Impedimenta!" James cried. Albus was knocked aside. "Locomotor Mortis!" Albus's legs were stuck together now. "Incarcerous!" Albus's unmoving but still breathing form was now tied up in ropes. "And, for good measure, Locomotor Albus!" A seething Albus was roughly tossed into a seat.

"Juhm! Geh me ou' of hur noo, oo greasft bifg git!" Albus said, unable to speak coherently due to a rope that was covering his mouth. James cast a _Finite Incantatem _on Albus, effectively getting rid of the boils, stopping Albus's teeth from growing, removed the ropes holding him hostage, and unlocked his legs.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch what you said," James grinned.

"I _said, _'James! Get me out of here now, you GREAT BIG _GIT_!" Albus roared, his fists shaking at his sides and his eye doing a funny little twitch.

"Well, there's no need to yell about it. Merlin, you're such a drama queen."

"I'ma drama queen? Oh, _I'm _a drama queen? Hello, Pot? It's Kettle. You're black."

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a twist, I fixed everything."

"Fi-_fixed everything?_ I have rope burns on my arse, a tingling sensation in my legs, a horrible ache in my back, and my teeth are bloody _enormous,_ so don't you try and tell me that you have BLOODY FIXED EVERYTHING!"

"Crikey, what crawled up your bum and died?" James snorted. Albus put his face in his palms and groaned. "Attitude problems," he sang, crossing his arms over his chest. _Ah, revenge was sweet._

"James," Albus said.

"Yeah?"

"Just shut up and give me my wand."

"No can do, my friend, we've still got loads to chat about," James said, grinning slightly manically.

"James, I've got to _go_. I have other things to do than sit here for your own perverse sadistic pleasure!" Albus exclaimed, about to get up out of his seat and leave, but not without strangling his brother. James sighed and pushed Albus back in his seat.

"Twig-sicle! This talk isn't just for shits and giggles! This is _serious _stuff."

Albus looked interested now. James gulped. _Time to exaggerate._ "Fine, then what did you want to talk about?" he asked warily, running his hands through his hair in defeat.

"Let's talk girls," James said. Albus groaned.

"Yes, I get it, it's very funny when you tell me in vivid detail about your various sex-capades and I squirm. I thought this was '_serious_ stuff,' James."

"It is, though! It really is!" James insisted, waving his hands about to prove his point. Albus sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Okay, then talk," Albus said, resting his chin in his palm and looking up at James intently.

"What do you know about a bird named Artemis Portelo, you know- the one you sent to scare me shiteless last night?" James asked, his eyes narrowing.

"She's my mate."

"You don't say. Come on, Al, tell me something useful."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Well, perhaps something not as obvious as Big Ben would do."

."Um, okay… Well, we dated a bit last year, maybe a month or two. She's got a bit of a sweet spot for chocolate frogs- of which I've been told I owe her six now since she almost got busted by Filch last night. Er, she hates the fact that she's named Artemis because she claims everyone expects her to come charging after them with bows and arrows. But, hell, the way she snogs she should be bloody Aphrodite." James whistled, impressed. If there was one thing non-quidditch-related that could impress him, it was a good snogger who used their ability frequently and sometimes wanted to practice with other good snoggers (such as himself) in order to hone aforementioned osculatory expertise in a _totally_ non-slaggish way that only good snoggers themselves could comprehend (though bad snoggers pretended to sometimes so they could snog good snoggers).

"Also sort of barmy; asked me if I wanted to jump into the Great Lake once- at 4:30 a.m. in _January_. There's just something about her that makes you want to agree with her. Dunno what though. She hates mornings- more than Dom and Vic, combined- but she loves nighttime. And she's like, half Brazilian or something."

"So why'd you break it off?" James asked curiously, not really listening to much after the comment about Aphrodite.

"There wasn't much else we did but snog, so-" Albus began. As a member of the elite Snog Club (of which only good snoggers are allowed), James found the idea of ending a relationship due to snogging-bloody _terrific_ snogging, at that!- just absolutely _scandalous_.

"Why the bloody hell would you do that?" James cried. "Wait, when was this?" he said abruptly a tinge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

"Last year, probably mid-January," Albus said slowly. James ran his hands through his hair and let out an ironic chuckle.

"Never mind," he said, trying to keep down the smirk that was threatening to spread across his face. Albus was disturbed (_one hundred nifflers in the Great Hall_) but also determined to regain whatever pride he'd lost in the past ten minutes.

"No, _do _tell, Ju-ju-bear," he said, grinning wickedly. Al placed his chin in his palms and fluttered his eyelashes "innocently."

James shrugged. "If you really wanna know," he said teasingly. Albus rolled his eyes and nodded. "Well, I was running a bit of an experiment last year right around then that may or may not have interfered with your judgment skills." Albus sighed and gestured for him to continue. James cleared his throat. "Fred and I were putting certain potions in certain peoples' morning pumpkin juices to see if we'd get certain results."

"How do you mean?" Albus asked, not fully understanding. James gave him an impish grin that said "just think about it for a minute." Albus furrowed his eyebrows slightly before gasping and wearily asking, "James, were these potions tested?"

"I'm glad you asked," James said, a grin brightening up his features. "You see, these potions were meant to be slipped into Zabini's drink. They're supposed to make the drinker sing 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' for a full twenty-four hours. But we wanted to make sure it would work properly, I mean- how _embarrassing_ would it be if it ended up blowing him up into pieces instead?"

Albus choked. "_Embarassing?_" he said wide-eyed. "Try _life-threatening and expulsion-worthy._"

James scrunched up his face in thought. _Life-threatening? _he mused. _Meh, perhaps. But expulsion-worthy? No way! Minnie loves me too much for that. _He waved off Albus's comment airily. "Anywho, we wanted the potion to be just right so we acquired some student test subjects."

"James," Albus began, cringing a little. "Were these students _willing_ volunteers?"

James shrugged and rolled his eyes. "'S not like we _asked_ them," he scoffed. "'Sides, if they knew that this potion was being slipped in their drink it would rid them of their short-term memory, not to mention give them a nasty sore throat"

"Nathaniel Hopkirk," Albus said, looking like something had just dawned on him. "He was in the Hospital Wing for a week and a half with a sore throat!"

"Woops," James said mockingly, rolling his eyes. Hopkirk was a prick anyways. "Right, so that probably was the reason you broke up with her- you had Warbeck Juice in your system. It probably reacted with something else you'd drunk." James grinned. So he _hadn't _neglected teaching his brother about birds enough for him to break up with someone because of good snogging, he'd just slipped a potentially dangerous potion in his drink. What else was new?

"Doubtful," Albus said. James raised an eyebrow. Al rolled his eyes."_Some_ of us look to find more depth in relationships, Ju-ju-bear." James snorted. _Depth_. Yeah. Sure. "Anyways, we decided to just be friends, it was a mutual sort of thing." Albus explained. "She's a great mate, too. She comes to the Burrow all the time- I'm surprised you haven't seen her."

"Yes, I get it, I'm an oblivious prat," James said. Albus began to tiptoe out of the classroom.

Just as his foot was out the door, James called after him. "Oi, where d'you think you're going Twig-sicle!"

"Away from you and your lunacy!" Al replied, pushing his way through hordes of students, undoubtedly on his way to tell Lily about James's sudden interest in Artemis.

"I resent that!" James shouted back to no one in particular, as Al was already long gone. "Zippy little bugger," he noted ruefully, though this last uttering was laced with affection.

~O~ SNITCHIESSSS ~O~

"JIMMY BOY!"

"FREDLY-KINS!"

The two teenage troublemakers ran towards each other from opposite sides of their common room, shrieking like banshees all the way along. James and Fred made a big show about hugging each other and weeping. Between sobs, they managed to fit in cries of "Oh, how long it's been!" and "I've missed you, my Snookums!" amongst others. A few first years stared at the pair bewildered, but the rest of the common room paid no attention and went back to doing whatever it is they were doing (mostly playing this new game the fourth-years had invented called Horntail Hysteria that involved fire and first-years and was already giving prefects headaches).

"You saw each other two bloody hours ago, would you wankers come off it for a bit!" came a cry from the one person James and Fred utterly feared; their cousin Dominique. However, they weren't nearly afraid enough to stop annoying her.

"Nikki, dearest, two hours is forever in a love like ours!" Fred exclaimed, in shock.

James nudged Fred in the ribs and stage-whispered, "Mate, I think it might not be the best _time of the month_ to annoy her, if you catch my drift." (No pun intended. Okay, yes, pun intended.)

Dominique let out a feral growl, reminding both boys about her ferocity and a particularly gruesome affair with Thomas Macmillan in which he ended up in the hospital wing, spewing Cornish pixies out of his shrunken ears for days.

"Riding the crimson wave, eh Dom?" Fred grinned, not knowing when to shut up (or knowing when to, but just having enough nerve/dimness not to).

"Aunt Ruby in town?" James added, supportively and quite faux-worriedly.

"Pussycat having a nosebleed?"

"Attracting lesbian vampires?"

"Shark week?"

"The hell's that, Fred?"

"Dunno, something Aunt 'Mione mentioned."

"Eew, why would you listen to that conver-"

"ENOUGH!" Dominique shrieked, her fists shaking at her sides and her knuckles white with fury. "You two will go to your dorm immediately - _immediately _– and you will not make a _single sound."_

Fred snorted. "Yeah, and why should we?" Everyone's heads whipped immediately to the redhead, pondering how he had the sheer audacity- no, _stupidity_- to ask that.

Dominique stood up and, with a slightly psychotic glint in her eye, spat out "_Why_?" There was an all around cringe. "I could tell everyone about a very special Christmas dinner in 2011." All those of the Weasley-Potter Clan present widened their eyes and stared at their cousins in disbelief.

"Oh, you did _not_ just go there. Fine, Dom. Easter brunch, 2007." Fred said with an overly triumphant and smug look upon his face.

"The Burrow summer picnic, July 2014." She quipped back.

"Grimmauld Place, New Year's Eve, 2010."

"Oh, you- you IMBECILE!" Dominique cried, trudging up to her dormitory shrieking profanities and shattering her housemates' eardrums.

"Whatever, Dom! Just let me know when you're off the rag!" Even James was appalled by the complete lack of self-preservation his best mate was showing. Dominique could be heard shrieking in outrage even as she slammed the door.

"Thank you, thank you all very much," Fred said with a victorious smile. Most of the first-years clapped, as well as a handful of second and third years. Lysander Scamander moodily handed over two galleons to a very smug Hugo Weasley.

James whistled. "All right, you have officially earned all of my respect. I bow down to your glory," James bowed deeply and Lily rolled her eyes a few meters away.

Fred slung an arm around his cousin's shoulder and said, "Oh, stop. You're making me blush." He emitted a very high-pitched giggle and pinched James's cheek. "There's no need to bow down to me, just call me Sir Fred the Great and give me your little black book." James nodded fervently.

Fred leaned in a little closer and whispered, "Now, what was it you wanted to talk to me about? Don't deny it; I'm your best mate. We know these things," James snorted. _Or you just talk to Al. Hell, now I have to do this all over again. _James steered him out of the common room and into a quiet corridor. Fred leaned against a wall and gestured for James to speak.

"Artemis Portelo," James said, trying to decipher Fred's amused grin. "What do you know about her?"

"Can snog like nobody's business," Fred and James shared mutual grins. James gestured for him to say more. "We went out for around a month and a half, well, we _snogged_ for a month and a half. She's mates with Al, you've probably seen her at the Burrow." James's eye twitched. "She seems quiet sometimes but if you get to know her you'll have no idea how you could have ever thought that; she can yell like the bloody devil."

"So, why'd you break up?"

"Mindy Grawshawk," Fred said, as if those two words explained everything. And to James (and perhaps the entirety of Hogwart's fourth year and above population), they did.

"That Hufflepuff with the huge jubblies?"

"Yeah," Fred sighed. He leaned against the wall remembering the very, ahem, _fun_ times with Mindy.

"And was she pissed?" James asked, curious.

"No, I'd say she was rather content, thanks." Fred retorted huffily, playing with a loose thread on his sweater.

James rolled his eyes. "Not Mindy, you pillock. _Artemis_."

"Hmm? Oh, no she wasn't. I believe she'd found herself a snog partner too! A rather dashing bloke, I've heard. Something Dearborn, a Slytherin, I think." James nodded slowly, digesting everything he'd just been told. "So mate," Fred grinned, "why do you want to know so much about Artemis, the minx?"

"I don't want to know about Artemis, who said I wanted to know about Artemis?" James said quickly, laughing nervously.

"Touchy," Fred noted cheekily. James glared at him. "Alright, alright. Untwist your knickers," Fred put his hands up in the universal "Woah, Nellie!" gesture. "But _I _believe somebody has a crush on her!" Fred teased in a highly annoying singsong voice.

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do _too_!"

"Do _not!_"

"I'd say you do, James," a new voice stated. Fred and James whirled around to see a smirking Lily Potter. "You know, I _do_ believe Al said something about Ju-ju-bear here asking about a Miss Artemis Portelo."

"Now, now Lils. Run along," James asserted. _Stupid kid sister_, he'd thought.

Lily circled the pair of boys. "Oh, no, I don't think so. I'd _much_ rather stay here, don't you think, Freddie?" Fred nodded, hoping to get a good row out of this. "Thought so. Now, here's how it's gonna go down. You two will leave my boyfriend alone, James comes to me with his girl problems, and Fred stops spiking Hugo's pumpkin juice with firewhiskey every morning. Uncle Neville had to send him out of class today for belting 'The Hills Are Alive' in his drunken stupor." James and Fred looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Oh, Lily," sang Fred.

"So young and naïve," James added with a dreamy sigh. The two put her in a headlock and gave her a noogie.

Lily showcased her astonishing ability to judo flip two male teenagers onto the ground simultaneously and hold them at wandpoint in thirty seconds or less.

"You two will meet all my demands without complaint or so help me Merlin, you will be walking around with bogeys flying out of your nose for the rest of your lives, _do you understand me?_" Lily growled. _Okay, so maybe _not _stupid kid sister_, James corrected. The two nodded their understanding, a direct hit to their pride. But better their pride than their necks.

"Anything else, mistress?" Fred croaked out. Lily rolled her eyes, but smiled appreciatively at the title.

"No, servant. Now shoo, I need to talk to my brother." Fred knelt to the ground and kissed her shoes then left, but not without exclaiming how grand it is to serve to Most Terrifying House of Mistress Lily Luna.

Lily grabbed James's hand and began to tug him around the castle, much like the manner in which James grabbed Albus that morning, though she was a great deal shorter so James's shins were horribly scuffled. Lily let go of James and paced at a certain corridor, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Hey! This is right around my favorite broom cupboard!" James noted, feeling as if he had to say something. Lily shook her head. "'Lo there, Barnabas! The trolls look like they've improved a bit," he said to a portrait depicting a now beaming Barnabas the Barmy. Suddenly, a door appeared and Lily led James into a room with a few armchairs and a couch surrounding a fire. It reminded James very much of their living room at home.

"Erm, Lily? How the hell did you just do that?" James questioned apprehensively, running his hands through his hair as a nervous habit. He shifted from foot to foot not sure where to sit, or _if _to sit. What if one of those chairs was a death trap?

"Really, James? Do you _ever_ listen to Mum and Dad's stories?" Lily said impatiently, seating herself in an armchair by the fireplace.

"I stop listening after 'back when _we_ were in Hogwarts…'"

"Well if you _had_ listened to more of Dad's fifth year stories, you would know that this is the Room of Requirement. It transforms itself into whatever a witch or wizard truly needs, all they've got to do is walk past it three times thinking of what they want and- poof! So it may very well be your favorite broom cupboard," Lily said, sounding as if she were reciting a passage. James half-expected her to finish with "I read it in _Hogwarts: A History_" like his Aunt Hermione.

"Oh, sweet Merlin. No _wonder_ no one every found us on rounds! Genius. I need to tell Fred about this."

"Only you, James. Only you."

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean? Surely you aren't insulting your favorite brother, are you Lily-kins?" James laid his hand across his heart, in a state of mock-offense. Lily scanned the room, as if looking for something.

"No, I don't see Teddy 'round here, do you?" Lily retorted cheekily.

"Oh, har-har. Sod off, Lily." He replied, quite annoyed. James and Lily always shared a special bond; some had even said it was quite like the original James and Lily's (though not romantic, obviously). Many have told the two that they even _looked_ like their grandparents. James inherited the Potter hair (though his was slightly reddish in the sunlight) and a majority of his father's features, but he got his mother's warm brown eyes. Harry often noted that, just like him, James would be told that he looked like his father but he had his mother's eyes. James often noted that his dad needed to bugger off. Lily bore a strikingly similar image to that of her mother, but her eyes were more of a hazel that was sometimes green, sometimes brown depending on the lighting situation. Since they were brother and sister, though, their dynamic was slightly different. James was the unnecessarily overprotective brother and anyone who _dared_ touch his Lily-flower would be in for a painful surprise, though not nearly as painful as the one Lily would give James for 'being an overprotective hypocritical arsehole.' The pair constantly argued but deep down (deep, deep, _deep _down), they each had a fierce love and protectiveness for each other.

"No! Then we wouldn't be able to talk about your girl issues!" Lily insisted. James groaned, knowing that there would be no way out as this was Lily, whom he personally trained. On the bright side, at least no boy would ever be able to push her too far. Or, you know, she'd be persistent enough to pursue him to do all the things James was worried about someone forcing upon her (Handholding ranked a five out of ten on the scale of inappropriateness. He really must get his priorities straight). He probably should've thought that through earlier. Oops.

"Okay, well, first issue: My snogging-slash-shagging partners talk to Al too much." James said, hoping to delay a topic that starts with "A" and ends in "rtemis."

"Hush, James. You know fully well that you shouldn't have barged in when Al was with Lana and you _really_ shouldn't have begun hexing the poor girl! I still have _no idea_ what possessed you to do that. Al had every reason to retaliate. It's in the Weasley-Potter-Lupin Code."

"It's not like I _knew_ they were going to be there! And hexing her was just reflex! Anyway, I apologized and her ears shrank down to normal size and her skin was back to normal. I even gave her a slight tan. I mean, really, she should've just _Finite Incantatem_'ed it instead of making a big stink and sobbing. Who does that?" James scoffed twirling his wand around.

"A poor flustered girl who was snogging her date when his brother runs in and hexes her." Lily deadpanned with an eyebrow raised. James shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"At least it wasn't you and Jake, the deplorable snake." James reasoned, though the effect was lost once he began to mutter very painful curses of which he was aching to use on her sister's (*shudder*) _boyfriend_.

"Honestly, James. You were two years younger then I am when you started dating so that gives me _every bloody right_…" Lily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them and planted an eerily calm smile upon her face. "You know what? No more sidetracking. Let's get straight to business. So… Artemis." Lily began and James winced. _Noooo, _he mentally-moaned. _She's going to meddle and force us on dates and to play dress-up or whatever fourteen year old girls do._

"Wh-What about her?" he stammered. He looked around the room discreetly trying to find a way out but it seemed Lily had thought up lots of restrictions.

"You've taken a keen interest in her, unlike any other we've ever seen. Explain." Lily demanded, determined to get answers even if she had to stay here all night long.

"Um… She's got a nice bum?" James offered, taking the honest route (that being the one that everyone seemed to think was a cover for the intense feelings he secretly harbored for the girl he'd met _last night_). Lily smacked him upside the head.

"You know what I mean, you prat. Now talk or I swear to Godric, I will sneak into Professor Zabini's potions supply closet and get some Veritaserum." Lily looked straight into her brother's eyes. James launched into a very long story about how she found him hiding in an old classroom, then about how he couldn't sleep all night long because he couldn't stop wondering about how in the hell he didn't know who she was and anyways she's dating Louis so it's not like they could date, which he wasn't really heavily considering (though no one really seemed to care about this last part).

By this point, Lily was sniffling and her eyes were a tad watery. "Oh, James! That's so sweet! Don't worry, it's just Louis. Chances are they'll be broken up within the week, and then I'll help you go after her."

"No, Lily, you don't understand. Firstly, it isn't like I just realized I was in love with my best mate who I've known all my life. She's just a broad with a nice bum who I met last night. For all I know, we could be totally unsuitable. I'm a teenage boy- it's likely hormones," he said pointedly, hoping that Lily would take that last bit seriously, for both his sake and hers- it's best she learns that teenage boys are handsy ponces ahead of time rather than first-hand. "Secondly, and most importantly, even if we were soul mates or some shite like that- I _can't_. She dated Fred. And Al. And now Louis! It would be breaking the Wizard Code's number one rule!" James explained, exasperated.

"Argh! Don't ruin my real-life romance novel, James! You're in love with her and that's final," said Lily in a matter-of-fact tone. James groaned. Lily continued, "And about the second thing… Sure you can! They weren't _serious_ relationships. There's probably something about how long the witch in question dated the wizard's mates in that damned rulebook!"

James cocked his head to the side and rubbed his chin. "I believe it said something about if they dated for more than three months, then it's serious and you can't date her. And there's no actual book, Lils, it's a _code_. An understanding amongst all wizards."

"So, let me ask you something, sonny-Jim." James rolled his eyes, but nodded. "There's a rule about dating your best mate's sister isn't there?"

James rolled his now very tired eyes. "Well, _yeah_. That's a criminal offense! Your best mate would have full rights to disembowel you if you were thick enough to pull something like that."

"Well, Dad's organs are fully intact so, as you can see, it all worked out. So I say, to hell with that code! Uncle Ron and Dad are still best mates and everyone else loves Dad. So, you see, your 'Wizard Code' is just the daftest thing I've ever heard," Lily declared shaking her head violently to emphasize her point.

"Yes, but you see, Dad's chances of survival were one in a million! He's got a knack for trouble and even more so, a knack for somehow getting out of ordeals all in one piece! Me- I play one eensie weensie little prank on Binns and suddenly I've got detention with Filch for a month. I'd probably end up with my body chopped into little pieces that got scattered through all of Europe." James was about to strangle his sister in frustration. He should've known it would be impossible to explain the inner workings of the Wizard Code to a witch. "And also- I JUST BLOODY MET HER LAST NIGHT!"

"Are you saying that you _don't_ have a knack for trouble?" questioned Lily, ignoring his last comment, just as everyone seemed to be doing as well. They all seemed to be positive that he and Artemis would fall in love and have lots of sarcastic, dark-haired children. "Professor McGonagall would beg to differ. You know what? You're not going to listen to me about this, I can already tell. So use the mirror and talk to Dad. I have no qualms about sending him an owl and asking whether you did so don't you even think about lying to me, James! Now, I've got study plans so I'm off to the library." Lily huffed then grabbed her books and stormed out of the room, leaving a very befuddled but slightly relieved James in the Room of Requirement.

James reached into the pockets of his robes and grabbed a mirror. Lily didn't kid around with things like this. He sat on the couch staring at it for a few minutes but then decided it was best to get this over with. All past experiences of talking about girls with his father had taught him that it was best to just be done with it.

"Harry Potter!" he said into the mirror. Suddenly his dad's smiling face appeared to him sitting at their kitchen table.

"'Lo James!" Harry said, happy that his eldest son contacted him and not the other way around for once.

"Yeah, hey Dad. So, I wanted to talk about-" James began nonchalantly, only to be interrupted his by his mother's calls.

"Harry! Do you know where my contraceptive potion is? I can't seem to find it!" Ginny Potter called as she stepped down the stairs. Harry bit down on his hand to keep from laughing. Though Ginny would deny it to her dying day, she had just as great timing as Ron.

James shouted back, "It's in the bottom drawer in your nightstand!" Harry managed to effectively glare at and scare the piss out of James whilst his fist was partly emerged in his mouth.

"Thanks, James, dear!" Ginny called back distractedly as she went back up the stairs. Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, then counted down with his fingers, _three, two, one.._. "Wait, James?" Harry burst into laughter, falling out of his chair in a very Neville-like manner.

Ginny ran back down the stairs hoping her son hadn't found some way to apparate home even though he was underage and Hogwarts had anti-apparition wards. However, with James, you could never tell. She scowled when she saw Harry on the floor. "What do you think's so funny, Mr. Potter, huh?"

"Hi, Mum! Strange weather we're having, isn't it?" James called from the mirror, hoping to distract her from the topic of how he knew where the contraceptive potions were. Ginny Potter, however, was no fool and knew exactly what her son was trying to do as she had been in a frighteningly similar situation once (however, hers had resulted in a mob of redheaded, weapon-wielding males hunting down Harry screaming about wearing white which she doubted would happen this time. But with her family, you never knew).

"James," she began menacingly, "how do you know where my contraceptive potion is?" James gulped. "I swear to _Merlin_, if you went and got some poor girl pregnant-"

"I think that's rather the point of a contraceptive potion, love." Harry had recovered from his fits of laughter and repositioned himself on his chair. "Anyways, at least he's practicing safe sex, right? No premature grandchildren for us. Huzzah!" Ginny nodded weakly then sat down next to Harry looking rather pale and faint. "Erm, I think you need some calming draught, yeah?" She nodded again. Harry grimaced. "I'll be right back, love." Harry ran off to his study and Ginny picked up the mirror.

"So, James," Ginny started feebly, her face slowly regaining some of its color. "What did you want to talk about?"

James had a hesitant look on his face, not quite sure what to say so he didn't upset his mother. "Well, er, you see… There's this girl, and-" he began.

"There's a girl! Oh my Godric! What's her name? What does she look like? Oh! You should bring her over for Christmas! I'd just love to meet her. When did you two start dating? Couldn't have been very long, seeing as school started a month ago. What house is she in?" Ginny questioned him excitedly, practically jumping out of her seat with joy that her son had _finally_ found someone he'd been serious about.

"Mum. Mum! MUM! You look like you're about to pee yourself!" James shouted at her to get her attention. Ginny glared as he entered in that last comment. "First off, we're not dating and that's the problem. Well, not really, it's just Louis and… but Lily said… but what does _she_ know, and… it was only _last night_, for Merlin's sake… I'm not making any sense am I?" Ginny shook her head. James sighed and Harry walked into the room grasping a potion in his hand.

"Here you go, Gin; calming draught. Though from what I've seen you're doing just fine," Harry smirked, leaning against the counter.

"NO! Dad, give her the potion! She needs to relax," James protested. Harry chuckled and poured some of the potion into his wife's coffee. She smiled up at him thankfully and sipped some of her coffee relaxing into her seat a bit.

"So, tell me, what did you want to talk about, son?" Harry asked as he fixed himself some tea and grabbed some biscuits from a cupboard.

"Okay, but no interrupting." James added. Harry nodded then sat down and began shoving biscuits in his mouth and Ginny rolled her eyes. "So, it was last night and I was hiding in an old Transfiguration classroom from these twins- one of whom, I was meant to be... er, uh…."

"Spare me the details and just replace 'shagging' or 'snogging' with 'studying'," Ginny pleaded. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Alright, so I was supposed to be sha-_studying_ with one of them. But a few days previous I accidentally walked in on Al and this girl, er, studying and hexed her on reflex. Don't look at me like that, Mum! I apologized and fixed it. Anyhow, Al wanted revenge so he put me in this awful predicament with these two furious twins. So I'm in the classroom, hiding under the cloak and staring at the map and then this girl walks in and I guess the cloak slipped of a bit and she saw me so she cleared her throat. I looked up and… there she was," said James awkwardly. Ginny sighed dreamily. Harry snorted, so Ginny pinched him. "So we chatted a bit and it turned out we're in the same house, same year, she dated both Al and Fred, and she's been to the Burrow a lot. I didn't recognize her. So I asked if she was meeting anyone and she said her boyfriend's in the common room." Ginny scowled at the word "boyfriend." James continued, "Then she grabbed her shirt that had been left in the room earlier when she was, uh, studying with said boyfriend and left. So I looked at the map and saw her entering the common room later and she goes next to someone else."

Recognition flashed in Ginny's eyes. "Her boyfriend," she stated.

"Yeah," James said. "But you'll _never_ guess who they are." Ginny and Harry exchanged puzzled looks. "The bird was Artemis Portelo and the bloke… Louis."

Ginny shot up in her chair. "Oh, that's right! Fleur and Victoire came over for tea the other day and were just gushing about Louis's new girlfriend! They met her at your last Hogsmeade weekend. Apparently he really likes her and they've been going out for just over three months. Everyone just _adores _her," Ginny rambled on as Harry discreetly tried to get her to shut up. James's face fell.

"Over three months?" he asked, doing a very bad job of hiding his happiness. Over three months of dating meant seriousness and that meant he couldn't date her. Huzzah! Not that he'd be upset to date a fit bird like Artemis (he called her Gam-a-tronica for a _reason_), and she seemed to have an interesting personality, but this meant Lily would get off his back. And Fred. And Al. And his mum. "They met her?"

"Sorry, mate." Harry "sympathized," biting down his smirk. They had gone through similar situations with George. The females of the family were hell-bent on setting him up with someone when the one George ended up with was his choice alone (well, to be honest, it was more Angelina and her perseverance and delicious tea cakes).

Ginny looked perplexed. "Why? Why are you sorry? Dear, it's just Louis, you know him. It's probably a casual shag-thing or something. It'll be over soon." Harry whispered an explanation into her ear and her face grew red with fury. She stood up and pounded the table. "NOT THE BLASTED 'WIZARD CODE' AGAIN! I SWEAR TO BLOODY _MERLIN_-" James stared wide-eyed as his mother let out a very colorful stream of curses. For the woman who told her it was wrong to say "stupid," she sure had a mouth on her. Harry rubbed Ginny's back and tried to calm her down.

"I swear, you so-called men take this code _way_ too seriously. When your father and I were dating, Ron kept going on and on and on about the damn code and how Harry was breaking practically every rule and it drove me mad." Ginny ranted. Harry nodded, as if he'd heard this thousands of times before, and, come to think of it, he probably had. When Harry and Ginny had started dating again, Ron had made a beyond disturbing habit of reminding them of the Wizard Code every time they saw each other, causing Ginny to go on infamous rants on how annoying he was and how annoying the Wizard Code was and the world should be run by girls like the Harpies.

"Okay, yes, Mum, very good. Let it all out." Ginny glared at James. "I'll explain when we get there. So I couldn't sleep 'cause all I thought about was _her_ and who was she and how the bleeding hell did I not know her." Ginny sighed dreamily again. "So the next day I asked Al about her and he said they dated for a month but they're mates now and gave me some background information on her. You know, personality stuff and how great she is at, erm, 'studying.'" James put air quotes around the word "studying." Ginny's face lost a bit of its color once more. He continued, "So then I talked to Fred and he too praised her studying abilities, then he accused me of having a crush and I denied, but he kept on insisting and… you can guess the rest."

"You had a 'do not- do too' fight didn't you?" Ginny sighed. "You're almost seventeen! So immature. It's the namesakes, I tell you."

"So then Lily came in and apparently Al told her that I asked about Artemis and she whisked me away to the Room of Requirement to talk, but not before making me and Fred promise not to prank her little _boyfriend_," James said the word with distaste. Harry immediately shot up in his chair.

"Boyfriend? She's got a _boyfriend_? Who is he? What's his name? Has he hurt her? If he has, I swear I'm going to-" Harry questioned then began speaking of a series of torture methods, and James finally understood how his loving, occasionally dorky dad- the same one who has trouble killing spiders in the shower for fear that they'd feel pain- could be an auror.

"Don't worry, Dad. It's been taken care of." James promised, a little afraid. Harry looked relieved and Ginny just glared at the two.

"So she talks to me about how I should forget the Wizard Code because, after all, Dad broke most of the rules and turned out fine so it's stupid." Ginny nodded, proud of her daughter. At least _someone _in this family had some perspective. "But I can't just _break_ it. I mean, Fred and Al only dated her for one and two months, respectively, so I'm technically allowed to date her. But Louis has dated her for more than three so it's considered a serious relationship and, therefore, I can't date her," James explained, sounding a bit too pleased. Ginny looked like someone had been using Chinese Water Torture on her for the past three days.

"Oh, this is just _so_ _stupid_! No wonder men don't have the bollocks to ask a woman out! It's because of the sodding code! James, you listen to me. When Louis and Artemis break it off, you give her the appropriate time to get over him then you can date her! Meanwhile, you two need to become friends, to know if you really like her. I mean, you _did _just meet her last night." Ginny changed from angry to excited in a flash and Harry quietly slipped some more calming draught into her coffee. James had a "Thank-Bloody-Merlin-It's-Not-Just-Me" look on his face when his mum said the last bit.

"Mum," James groaned. "It doesn't work like that! Look, there are lots of things about girls that guys don't understand, and vice-versa. So, go upstairs, take your contraceptive potion to prevent from having any more demon children, and let me and Dad talk, yeah?" Ginny grumbled as she brought her mug upstairs with her.

Harry grinned. "Looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a pickle, James."

James glared. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"No, James, I don't think I will. As your father, I have to give you advice in situations like these! And, judging by my professional expertise, you sound like you're in looooooove," Harry said grinning wickedly, fully understanding that James was just doing this to appease Lily and probably wasn't this obsessed with Artemis.

"You're a sadistic, evil excuse for a Gryffindor."

"HARRY! WHICH ONE'S THE CONTRACEPTIVE POTION?" Both Potters shared a look. And people said _James _ was bad.

"It's the green one, Mum!" James yelled.

"What-" Harry began to ask.

"THANKS, JAMES!" Ginny hollered back.

"Okay, bye everybody!" James shouted. He then began to make his way out of the Room of Requirement, muttering, "Well, that went better than I thought it would."

**A/N: Okay, to be honest I'm not really proud of this chapter. I would've done a rewrite but a) I hate rewrites and b) there's some really important stuff here that sets up certain incidents later on in the storyline and I needed it to be just like this… as much as that sucks. But, I hope you enjoyed nonetheless and I apologize for any typos since Word has decided that today is the day it will randomly insert page breaks in the middle of a word. Read and review! Nonexistent cookies, how can you resist?**


	3. How to be a Promise-Breaker

**A/N: Hi, again! I'm not dead yet, don't worry. Just been busy and incredibly ill these past few weeks. But, no fear, I shall prevail! Here's the next chapter, albeit a tad late. This one was written a while ago, (*uses grandfather voice*) back in the good old days (read as: back in summer when I had time to, you know, **_**breathe**_**), so there are some weird-ish parts that seem out of place to me but perhaps only because I know the full plot. **

**And, before you read, I want you to know that this title will seem to have no relevance but just go with it. It's like a sort of incredibly vague, nonsensical spoiler thing, but you deserve it. Think of it as an apology for taking so long to update. If you're interested, the original title was "Coincidence and Serendipity: A Bitch, Just like Karma." Also, it's a Marina and the Diamonds reference! Double whammy!**

How to Be a Promise-Breaker

"Get up, mate," James heard a voice say. He had a sudden urge to punch its owner in the face. He lifted his head slightly and opened his eye a crack. The sun had hardly risen. Nope, too early to get up. After deciding he would sleep for the next three days, James pulled his covers over his head again to protect his face from the horrible cold. His blankets wrapped around him like a warm cocoon and he snuggled into his bedding.

"Piss off," he grumbled into his pillow, rolling onto his stomach. He heard some shuffling noises and whispers and a door closing. He smiled, the voice had gone away. He nuzzled his face into his pillow and slowly drifted off into sleep. He heard some more shuffling, but he was too close to falling asleep to pay much attention to it. Suddenly, he felt his blanket being forcefully thrust off his body which was immediately drenched in ice cold water.

James shot up out of bed, his bare chest sopping wet, to find his cousin Louis rolling on the floor howling with laughter. _Arsehole, _he thought.

He helped Louis get up then a mischievous smile was planted on his face. "Thanks, Louis! I think you deserve a great, big _hug_!" James then proceeded to tackle Louis and they playfully wrestled until James was satisfied with how drenched his cousin was.

"Oi! What was that for? Now I'm gonna have to change clothes…" Louis moaned as he shook his blondish-reddish hair out. A few droplets hit James's face and he glared at Louis.

"It's called a drying charm, mate," James stated as he cast one on himself and began getting dressed. He blindly grabbed a button up shirt from his dresser and cocked his head to the side. _Did I wear this yesterday?_ He held it up to his nose and sniffed. _Smells fine._ He put it on and cast a pressing charm his grandmum had taught him a while ago to smooth out any wrinkles. She'd told him he must be presentable in the company of young ladies. He'd said that if he were in the company of a fit bird their clothing would end up rumpled anyways, so there was no use. Then his dad shot him a glare and James high-fived Louis. Oh, yes. Louis.

"Oh. Right. I knew that," Louis said, blushing and fumbling around his robes for his wand. James slipped on his trousers, rested his tie around his neck and shrugged into his robes.

James shoved the books he'd need into his schoolbag and hastily began performing his morning-hygiene routine, which included basic charms that saved time. "Sure you did. Come on, we've got Potions this morning and I've a feeling Zabini's going to be very, ahem, cheery today."

Louis snorted then he found his wand and used the charm. "Just like the _feeling_ you and Fred had that Lily's boyfriend," James snarled, "would be in need of some hair dying spells, so you gave Lily a list, but you just _accidentally _mismatched certain spells and their effects. Yeah, sure, James."

"Who knows? I think I've got a sixth sense," James said. "Now, hurry _up_, Veela boy, and get a move on."

"Sure thing, Ju-ju-bear." Louis retorted and James groaned. They made their way down the stairs and to the Great Hall making small talk about quidditch. When they arrived, he was very glad to see that the Potions Master was not present at the staff table that morning.

James saw Artemis seated at the Gryffindor table, talking to a very moody-looking Dominique. Louis perked up when he saw her and slid down into an empty space next to her. He whispered something into her ear and she giggled then whispered something back making Louis stare at her wide-eyed. He then dropped a long kiss on her lips and she wrapped her arms around his neck. James felt something funny in his chest- was that, (gasp), _jealousy_? Remembering his talk with his dad last night, James deduced it was just hormones- he didn't know the girl, so he couldn't be jealous. Right?

He staggered over to where his sister and her, _ugh_, boyfriend were sitting and pried them apart from each other and plopped himself in between the two. Lily glared at her brother. "James, " she began sweetly. "Just what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" A few of her fellow third-years winced across the table. Sure, Lily was a great mate, but if you crossed her- that'd be the last thing you do.

James grinned broadly. "Why, I just wanted to check up on my sweet little Lily-kins. Is that such a crime, ladies?" he said, the last comment aimed at a few girls who were awestruck at the fact that _James Potter_ was at their table and swooned in their seats, a few muttering profusely that it wasn't a crime and he should do so more often. "See, Lils? No harm, no foul."

"James," she growled threateningly. James, however, paid no heed to his sister and began talking to some third and fourth years about being quidditch captain. They weren't really listening as James had forgotten to button up the first few buttons on his shirt and, well, quidditch had made him quite _toned _and an exposed toned chest paired with a boyishly undone necktie gave him a mischief, toeing-the-glorious-line-between-boyhood-and-manhood charm_._ Lily sighed, this always happened with James. She liked it better when Albus was being overprotective- he didn't embarrass her amongst her mates and was always cunning and unpredictable, giving her a challenge.

Suddenly an owl swooped over to McGonagall's place at the staff table and her face grew redder and redder as she read the note it brought. She quickly scribbled a reply and sent the owl away. James panicked and ran his hands through his hair. This was _not_ part of the plan. He stole a glance at Fred who had a "deer-in-headlights" look on his face. James gestured for him to calm down and Fred nodded, taking deep breaths.

"WEASLEY! POTTER!" the Headmistress bellowed, catching the entire Hall's attention.

"It's not even eight yet, what could they have possibly done?" muttered a fifth year Ravenclaw. A few of his mates murmured their agreement.

"Yes, Professor?" a dozen voices said at the same time, the owners standing with slightly confused looks on their faces. The Weasleys and Potters were very good actors and very loyal family members.

McGonagall scowled. "You know which two I mean! My office, _immediately_."

"Sorry, Minnie! No can do!" James shouted, busily shoving bacon into his pockets and grabbing his schoolbag.

"Yeah, you see, class starts soon and we really mustn't be late!" Fred added, doing the same as his cousin but also bringing some pancakes with him as well. McGonagall's shrieks of exasperation could be heard by all within a forty-mile radius.

Peeves, as if sensing mayhem, swooped down into the Great Hall and winked at Fred and James, who both sighed with relief. Peeves, whose respect they'd immediately won at their Start-of-Term feast in first year when they'd managed to turn half of the staff into toads who had to be kissed by an assigned professor to reverse the spell (of course, they'd had some help from Teddy, though he made them swear not to tell), would save them.

"MINNIE! MINNIE! MY DEAR OLD FRIEND!" Peeves cried. The boys were quietly sneaking away from the Great Hall, stopping to give high-fives with some of their mates

"What, Peeves?" the poor Headmistress snapped.

"I think breakfast has gotten a _wee_ bit too quiet lately, don't you?"

"No, Peeves, I do not." she sighed.

"WELL, I DOOOOOOO!" Peeves roared swooping over all the tables and sending dishes flying everywhere. A massive food fight broke out in the Great Hall and James and Fred had managed to sneak off. "RUN, ICKLE FIRSTIES, RUN FROM THE GREAT PEEEEEEVESSSSSSSS!"

Finally safe in a corridor near their Potions classroom, James and Fred burst into laughter. "I bloody _love_ Peeves," Fred declared when their cackling had ceased and the tears stopped streaming down their faces. James nodded his agreement. The two troublemakers talked about the upcoming Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match and different techniques and plays while they waited. The sixth years slowly began to assemble by the classroom and James and Fred joined them. They received a few glares amongst the stares of admiration, but the two took it all humbly.

Just kidding.

James and Fred conjured up a small platform for them to stand on and began bowing and blowing kisses. A few of the girls James blew kisses at nearly fainted. They were having quite a grand time as they thrived under attention like this. Suddenly, the crowd of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff sixth years parted hastily, creating a path towards James and Fred. At the end of the pathway stood a very angry young witch who was ready to strangle someone.

"Er… May we help you, love?" asked James confusedly, not seeing whom it was as there was still a flurry of people surrounding her, but hoping to distract her with his charm. It was all to no avail. Artemis looked up and pushed a few people out of her way and glared as no one had ever glared bother. James gulped and ran his hands through his hair, remembering Fred's comment about her yelling abilities.

"HELP ME?" she shrieked. Fred grinned. "Oh, I think you two have done quite enough. I go down to breakfast this morning hoping for a nice, peaceful day. Ten minutes later, a poltergeist has started a full-fledged food fight and I have eggs in places where no one should have eggs. So, to answer your thicker than thick question, _no_, you may not help me." A few girls began to protest wildly that there was no need to talk to them that way but Artemis brushed them off. Er, perhaps "violently thrust a variety of her limbs into any irksome passerby while cursing like a sailor" is a more appropriate term.

"You two will pay. You will pay in the most painful way possible," Artemis took a deep tone that made her sound rather menacing. She fingered her wand threateningly. James couldn't decide whether to take her seriously or merely scoff at her attempt. Thankfully, or, rather, unthankfully, Fred did so sooner.

Fred snorted. "Yeah, what're you gonna do? Glare us to death?" he mocked. A few people from the crowd that had emerged chuckled.

This did not please Artemis.

"I," she announced, "am going to write to your mothers."

James and Fred looked like they'd just been told their puppies died, especially James, whose mum's bat-bogey had only gotten stronger over the years.

"You wouldn't dare," James said, narrowing his eyes. "You don't have the bollocks. Literally."

"Oh, but I would. Come now, boys, where's your sense of Gryffindor courage?" Artemis teased, enjoying herself immensely. She circled around the trembling pair of dolts, a smug smirk settling on her face contently. James and Fred sighed and shared a look.

"Oh, sweet, merciful Artemis…" Fred began, batting his eyelashes

"Save the sweet talk for your next Hogsmeade date, Fred," she said, not taking any bullshite. She dated him for a bit, it's not like she wasn't used to his tricks. Though those who looked over his detentions never learned, so it is understandable why one would think otherwise.

James jutted out his lower hip and pulled his best puppy-dog eyes. "Please," he begged. Now, there's one thing you should know about James Potter: he doesn't beg. He doesn't grovel. He doesn't plead for mercy.

"Hmm, I'll have to think about this. I'll let you know when I make my decision. Or perhaps not. It _would_ be rather funny for you two to receive Howlers right out of the blue, eh?" Artemis said, having a rather grand time toying with the boys' fears. Professor Zabini was seen making his way to the classroom, glaring with an eerily reluctant grin magically plastered to his face and the majority of the students began gathering their schoolbags and books. "And you might want to tie your tie." The class shuffled in, muttering about what had just happened in various degrees of wonderment or ridicule, several of the girls glaring at Artemis. James glanced down at his tie and hastily formed a knot loose enough not to merit a detention.

"She _really_ hates mornings, doesn't she?" James whispered to Fred, who only nodded in response.

~O~ SNITCHIESSSS ~O~

Potions class finally ended after a torturously slow two-hour period in which Professor Zabini kept bursting into giggles every other sentence, causing the class to chuckle as well. However, whenever he tried to threaten or reprimand someone, it sounded rather strange as he was smiling and had a reluctantly cheery tone to his voice thus no one took him seriously.

Herbology with Slytherins was next and the child inside Professor Longbottom desperately wanted to praise James and Fred for their very amplified cheering charm, but had to resort to flashing the two impishly proud grins throughout the entire period. A few Slytherins were sending him icy glares throughout the entire class. James only merrily waved his gillyweed and winked or gave them a cheeky grin in response. Next was lunch and James and Fred would be damned if they'd have to face McGonagall while she was most definitely still fuming. So they took refuge in their safe haven; their holy place; their hallowed sanctuary.

The kitchens.

Ever since their second year, James and Fred had a very unique companionship with the house elves. They basically popped in the kitchens every now and then and, while they were there, unabashedly praised and commended the excitable little creatures who wept with joy at the compliments.

In all their time at Hogwarts, James and Fred had not found another person in the kitchens who they hadn't told where it is. The select few whom they told or had been threatened enough into telling (this list included Albus, Louis, Lily, and Dominique), were all sworn to secrecy. So, naturally, when they rushed into the kitchens for lunch and saw a non-Albus, Louis, Lily or Dominique-shaped figure there, James and Fred were shocked. This would mean that (insert dramatic pause here), _a traitor was among them_. Now curious to find out who it was that had managed to receive this very important and confidential piece of information, James and Fred tiptoed into the kitchens. The mysterious-kitchen-witch heard them and whirled around so the two could see who it was.

Three guesses who.

James came to the conclusion that the Fates must really hate him and began banging his head against the wall nearest him (not before nonverbally casting a cushioning charm on the wall- he couldn't get an unsightly bump on his forehead!).

The house-elves went hysterical, crying about how it was their fault that "the most wonderful and gracious Master James" was harming himself and began to punish themselves or just sit themselves down and cry while a few others latched on to his legs and sobbed, begging him to stop. Fred, meanwhile, did nothing at all to help the situation and laughed, banging his fist on the table. Artemis was overwhelmed at first, but then her mind fully grasped the situation and she tried to calm down some of the creatures and hissed at Fred to get "that blithering idiot" to stop.

Fred poked James in the sides cautiously, pulling back with every jab as if James were a dangerous creature who could snap at any moment. After a few minutes of poking and prodding, James stepped away from the walls with a bit of trouble as the house-elves had a very strong hold on his legs then surveyed the scene. Artemis was crouching down and soothing a few sniffling elves who had thankfully stopped crying (tennis ball eyes = tennis ball tears), Fred was asking one of the more composed creatures for some treacle tart and the rest of the elves were bawling.

James pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, took a deep breath then began plucking the elves off his legs and ensuring them that he was fine and it was not their fault. Then he boomed, "All right everybody, calm down. This is not your fault; you've all been the best elves anyone could ask for and you really mustn't punish yourselves." The house-elves all stopped whatever they were doing and stared at him in awe. James cleared his throat self-consciously.

"Now, I've come here for some of your heavenly lunch and positively delightful company. Would you terribly mind fetching me a glass of pumpkin juice and perhaps a chicken sandwich?" James said with repulsive politeness. The elves all nodded enthusiastically and began bustling around the kitchen once more. James turned to Fred, and scolded him. "Really, Fred-ly boy, why don't you get an actual meal first _then_ eat treacle tart if you'd still like some." Fred seemed to be heavily weighing his options before he nodded slowly and called out asking for some fish and chips. James turned to face Artemis who had sat down to continue eating a very delicious-looking stew with beans and meat. "And _you_, tell us how the hell you knew how to get here and what that stew is called," James ordered, peering at her meal hungrily.

"It's called feijoada, it's a Brazilian stew that my grandmother always makes." Artemis explained, slipping into a slight accent at the Portuguese word. "As for how I got here," she began with a smirk, "a girl has her ways." She stirred her spoon around in her stew and James stared at it longingly.

Fred looked up from the table and snorted. "Sure, if you can call dating three of the people on the list '_ways_'," he said sarcastically. "Which bugger told?"

Artemis sighed. "Louis." The answer really wasn't all that surprising, but Fred and James were Fred and James and had to react with an entirely excessive amount of drama.

James gasped. "That-that traitor! He promised! We swapped spit, we-we made a _blood oath_ and he told! I cannot believe him," he cried in shock and outrage.

"Well, to be fair, it sort of slipped out that he knew where it was and I _persuaded_ him into telling me," Artemis said, purring out the word "persuaded." James's jaw was still dropped and he was making incredulous choking noises.

Fred stared at her even broader smirk now in thought. "You snogged him into submission, didn't you?" he asked in a manner that suggested he already knew the answer.

"You bet your arse I did," said Artemis proudly. She grinned. "If it helps, it took a _lot_ of persuading to get him to tell me. I mean, it's not as if I'm going to go gallivanting around the school screaming about tickling pears- I'd seem like a raging lunatic!" Artemis scoffed.

"He _told_?" asked James incredulously, as if he hadn't been listening to the rest of the conversation (which he hadn't). "What part of 'blood oath' does he not understand? He was the one who suggested an unbreakable vow until we figured that if we ever somehow had kids that we wouldn't be able to tell them. _Un_believable. Well, Fred, I believe we must have a talk with our dear Veela-boy-wonder soon?" Artemis looked on at the interaction with her eyebrows raised mockingly.

"_James_," Fred whispered harshly, "do you not see we have a guest who is rather cozy with the Veela in question."

"Eigth-veela," Artemis corrected absently as she continued eating her stew.

"As if it _matters_," James snorted at Artemis. He then rubbed his chin thoughtfully before noting that it was stubbly and he'd forgotten his shaving spell in all the morning haste. "Either way he has dangerous persuasive powers and we need him on our side, so let's just leave it be and get on with the proceedings." Fred nodded wearily (he'd been doing a lot of that lately, he thought).

"Proceedings," repeated Artemis somewhat monotonously, the "are-you-really-serious" manner in which she spoke taking away from the toneless aspect a bit.

"Yes, pro-_ceed_-ings," Fred drawled out the word slowly as if speaking to a child. Artemis rolled her eyes. Fred shook his head."Girls," he mouthed to James.

"I am familiar with the word, Fred," said Artemis wryly. In all honesty, she had just wanted to get a quick lunch away from Louis and her mates, so she hid in one of the most obvious spots for a meal which would be the last place he would look, making the common mistake that Artemis, as a clever girl, would hide in a more secluded, complexly-hidden place. Artemis had taken the clever-girl shortcut that had been created due to the fact that overestimating someone was just as dangerous as underestimating them and ran off the kitchens.

"Well, shall we get to it, then?" James asked with a grin planted on his face. _Oh, she'll be grossed out, this'll be brilliant. _Artemis, however, took this grin as a bad sign and groaned inwardly.

"First, there is an oath, then the spit-swapping and blood-oath-ing. Oath-ing? Is that a word?" Fred trailed off. Artemis gestured for him to continue. "So, shall we begin?" James nodded enthusiastically while Artemis began to protest before Fred smacked his hand over her mouth with a flourish.

"So, the oath… Bloody _ow_, Artemis! There was no need to bite!" Fred exclaimed, yelping and rapidly pulling his hand away. He sucked on the space between his thumb and forefinger where Artemis's teeth had burrowed. A few house-elves that had gathered around to watch winced. Artemis shrugged and cheekily grinned. _Oh, she's a _violent _broad, _James thought wryly. _That's new._"Repeat after me," said Fred.

"Repeat after me," said James cheekily. Fred rolled his eyes and Artemis tried to beckon over one of the house-elves for help escaping. Fred noticed and smacked her hand, probably a bit harder than necessary just to spite her. Artemis kicked him in the shin.

"I, of sound mind and body, solemnly swear that I shall keep the location of this safe haven known as the Hogwarts kitchens secret, as the Marauders did in their time-"

"The _who_?" asked Artemis, giving up all hope on taking her food and running.

"The Marauders, of course! The ones who originally found this kitchen- Hogwarts's greatest mischief-makers!" cried Fred.

"The greatest of who, Messr Prongs, was my grandfather," said James with a devilish grin on his face. Artemis groaned. _Well that explains a few things_, she thought.

"Back to the proceedings?" suggested Fred, feeling as if no one respected his authority as Master of Kitchens Proceedings.

"Right then," sighed Artemis.

"I, of sound mind and body, solemnly swear that I shall keep the location of this safe haven known as the Hogwarts kitchens secret, as the Marauders did in their time, may they rest in mayhem and mischief, and protect it with my life." Fred recited seriously. James and Artemis repeated.

"Now for the spit-swapping, I believe this is where you come in, Marauder/Trio-spawn." Fred announced.

"So," began James with the devilish grin still glued onto his face, "there are two ways to go about the spit-swapping." Fred looked confused and Artemis was staring at James tiredly. "There's option number one which is spitting in your palm and shaking hands with the Spit-Swapping Master who must do so themselves as well, or there's the lesser-known, never-used option number two, as that, my dear friends, is what we call incest and is frowned upon in most societies."

"Option number two being…?" Artemis pressed wearily.

James's grin turned into a full-out cheeky beam and he replied, "Snogging." Fred pursed his lips and sighed. Artemis raised an eyebrow inquisitively and bit her lip, deciding how to react.

"You, cretin, you!" Artemis teased. "However, as I am currently in a relationship with your _cousin_ I'm going to have to chose option number one." Without any warning, James spat into his palm and looked up at Artemis expectantly. She did the same and slowly inched her hand towards his. "Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew."

"Oh, come _on_, your hand hasn't even touched his yet!" cried Fred. As Artemis opened her mouth to retort, James hastily grabbed her hand and shook it firmly.

Artemis just glared. "You know, your mums are only one owl away. That threat still stands," she threatened. James just grinned.

Fred rolled his eyes and went on with the rest of the activities. "Now is the time for the blood oath. You and I prick the other's finger and smear our blood together and-bam! All done!" he exclaimed.

"I don't suppose any of you have any spare needles with you, do you?" asked Artemis with a raised eyebrow. In answer, James pulled out a few rubbery pink rectangles.

"These are erasers. The muggles use them when they're writing and they mess up- it just rubs off the words they wrote! It's brilliant, isn't it?" said James somewhat proudly. Fred thought he'd been spending too much time with Grandpa Arthur.

"Yes, just genius, but _how_ is this going to get a drop of blood from me? Do I just rub my skin until it bleeds?" asked Artemis sardonically. She glanced at the pink things warily, knowing that at this point all hopes for a regular day filled with sane people had just gone out the window. Then again, this is Hogwarts. A regular day filled with sane people is an anomaly.

"Ever heard of this nifty thing called transfiguration, love?" asked James, amused. His hand travelled to his trousers' waistband where his wand was tucked next to his boxers, making his shirt ride up a little. Artemis glanced at his fumbling fingers attempting to grab his wand and quickly looked away, her cheeks containing a slight pinkish tint. Fred looked at her then at James and mentally curled up into a ball and screamed. This was going to be a long year.

"So do you just carry these things around so you can transfigure them into whatever you want?" Artemis asked Fred, not showing any sign that she heard James. Fred however, was asking a house elf for extra chips in his meal. _Best be energized and fed if I'm going to deal with this mad lot,_ he decided.

"Well, yes," James frowned. "But they're great for throwing at people too. They've no idea what's going on and they just see this peculiar little pink thing on the floor and leave. Then you just summon it and be on your way! Unless they're muggle-born, then it gets a bit tricky…" James trailed off and Fred gestured impatiently to get on with it. _Great for throwing at people, huh? _Artemis thought. She glanced at James and Fred. _I suppose I could get them in their family jewels and run._ James transfigured the erasers into two needles and the blood oath began. _There goes my escape plan. Unless I use the needles inst- NO! _Artemis shook her head as if to rid herself of her thoughts and turned to Fred.

"You know," Fred mused, "I feel like we have a special bond now. Like we're _connected_." He spun his needle around like a mini baton. Artemis vaguely wondered how a beater was so nimble.

"Shut up, Fred." She grabbed her needle and stared at its fine point nervously. Though apparently nimble, Fred would not be gentle with a needle. Why couldn't _he _have done the spit-swapping and James the needle-pricking? Then Artemis remembered when James had first found out that Lily was dating a boy and decided it was perhaps a better idea to leave this one to Fred. Or, you know, secret option number three, _just run like mad in the other direction. _Though a quick glance out of the corner of her eye told Artemis that James had foreseen this possibility and stood by the door with his arms crossed defiantly. _Maybe if I just use some transfiguration of my own…_ Artemis briefly wondered then realized that she'd been taking too much time thinking and Fred held his thumb out expectantly. _Bugger me_.

"Right-o." Fred and Artemis pricked the other's finger, the blood slowly beginning to collect around the pricks and Fred boldly thrust his thumb onto Artemis's and wiggled it around. She looked positively revolted.

"Some of _its_ blood runs through my veins now! Eurgh," complained Artemis as she healed her finger prick.

"James! I've got girl blood in me! Merlin, what's this going to do to my reputation? I already feel the need to check my hair. Godric help me!" cried Fred melodramatically, falling to the floor.

"Mate, you do that already." James pointed out and Fred scowled, though he was sucking his thumb so the effect was ruined. "Now, let's get you lot fed and watered." With that, the house-elves brought James's and Fred's meals and brought Artemis an unidentifiable juice. James and Fred immediately began digging into their meals. Artemis merely took a sip of the juice and closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure at the taste. A thought crossed James's mind saying that it was a wonderful sound then his eyes widened and he pinched his wrist. _Snap out of it, James_, he ordered himself.

"Wussat?" asked James curiously, his mouth stuffed with his sandwich. Fred looked as if he was about to make a remark about how one mustn't speak with their mouths full but then stopped himself and muttered something like "ruddy girl blood."

"Guarana juice, guarana is a berry of sorts that basically only grows in the Amazon. It's rather rare to find it somewhere else, but there's a Brazilian house elf here who always makes me the best Brazilian food and somehow acquires guarana juice. It has caffeine-like properties." Artemis recited, as if she'd had to say this many times, and James's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to process all that he'd been told. All he'd been able to process at that point was 'Brazilian house elf,' and imagined a house elf with dark hair like Artemis's **(A/N: Sorry, folks. No red hair here- but hey! There's still Al, **_**hint hint.)**_

"She's always eating some Brazilian shite," Fred snorted. "I mean, I would be fine just eating fish and chips all my life. But she's got to mix it up with foreign foods, making us all seem like 'uncultured fools,'" he sniffed haughtily.

"Well _excuse_ me for having a father who forces his culture upon me, I'm used to this food. And you make yourselves seem like uncultured fools all on your own," Artemis defended. James's thoughts drifted off into how wonderfully his mum and Artemis would get off- his mum was always trying to get them to eat different kinds of food. ("C'mon, Harry, just try it!" "What? No way, Gin. If it moves, I don't eat it. Now get me some treacle tart, woman!... Okay, I learned my lesson. The bats flying out of my nose have taught me well.") "And guarana juice is a _lot_ more stronger and healthier than caffeine so it's only logical to drink it, I mean, I had hardly any sleep last night and this stuff just wakes me right up and it doesn't even taste foul," she rambled on.

"Hardly any sleep, you say?" asked Fred with his own cheeky grin on his face. "Midnight rendezvous with a certain cousin of ours?" he teased, winking roguishly and quickly glancing back at James.

"None of your business, Fred, but yes." Artemis answered wearily running a hand through her hair. Which never really meant anything good. Fred sighed.

"What'd he do?" Fred asked knowingly, an iota of concern tainting his cool façade. Artemis sent him a look. James briefly wondered if perhaps there was more going on then snogging with those two, considering the way they seemed to know each other so well. Fred formed a fist. "Again?" he asked, the iota of concern know replaced with blatant anger and frustration. Artemis nodded slowly.

"Don't say anything, Fred," she requested quietly. Fred looked disbelieving and was about to protest before Artemis stopped him. "Please." Fred shut his mouth and nodded. James shot him a look but Fred paid no heed.

After a moment of awkward silence, Artemis stood up and handed her glass to a house-elf and announced, "Well, I'm off to my Ancient Runes class which begins in," she glanced at her watch, "approximately five minutes." She began to grab her things.

James and Fred nodded absently until they both jumped about ten feet in the air. "FIVE MINUTES?" they both cried in unison. Artemis just shook her head ruefully and walked away. James and Fred both stared at her bum as she left. Then, realizing they had very little time to get to their Divination class (McGonagall would never _dare_ set foot in that classroom), the two hastily ate the rest of their food, grabbed their books, and ran out of the kitchens, yelling their praise for the house-elves all the way along.

~O~ SNITCHIESSSS ~O~

"You know, that last prediction was rather creative, James," Fred mused, drumming his fingers against the desk as Professor Binns continued on with his lecture about the bloody Goblin Wars. "I'd have never thought that I would meet my demise via wizard-eating marshmallows. Or that a panther was about to enter my life and muck shite up."

"What can I say, I'm a genius," James replied, yawning and bored out of his mind. He toyed with his wand thinking of all the things he could do to make this class more interesting. It was at that moment when James realized the true extent to his self-control. He and Fred had been on the down low all day long, trying to hide from McGonagall who was undoubtedly furious at them for the morning's adventures. "Say, when d'you think Binns is gonna notice that we aren't fifth year Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws and aren't supposed to be here right now?"

"I dunno, mate. Unless someone points it out to him, I think we're safe and, anyways, no one saw us come in 'cause of the cloak," Fred answered dully. "I'm just glad to get some sleep in." The infamously monotonous professor's eyes began to scan the room and would surely reach the pair's hiding place in the back.

"He's looking this way, mate, duck!" James whispered. Fred immediately ducked without question and sent a hex flying to some swotty prefect's direction that caused him to burst out into quacks, distracting Binns from his surveying. _Serves him right_, Fred thought triumphantly, glaring at the prefect from under his desk. _That little bugger had the nerve to give me a detention! It's always the Ravenclaws_…

The class promptly burst into laughter and Binns's ears perked up as if not used to this new sound, most likely because it rose and fell and varied in pitches and, _gasp_, had a tone of _excitement _to it. He floated purposefully over to the still-quacking prefect whose nose was stuck painfully high in the air and who was doing much damage to the Ravenclaw reputation as he must've been remarkably thick as to not even _try_ to use _Finite Incantatem_. Binns interrogated the prefect who could only quack pompously in response, sending the room into rather repetitious roaring fits of laughter.

Meanwhile, Fred and James had begun slowly inching their way across the room, whipping their heads back and forth to make sure they hadn't been spotted. For some reason, they hadn't decided to use the cloak because that would mean they thought things through and _didn't_ just go with the first idea that popped into their reckless minds.

Just as Fred and James had reached the door, the quacks, and, subsequently, the laughter had ceased attacking their eardrums until a brand new pandemonium broke out.

"It was him! Over there by the door!" the prefect's nasally voice rang out through the classroom. For a moment, there was quiet.

Then, all hell broke loose.

"Lookit! He's trying to get away!"

"Where?"

"I see him, I see him! Look, Adamson, right there!"

"_Where?"_

"Merlin's balls, he's not alone! Dear _god_, Adamson, are you blind?"

"Who's that with him? He's crouching, I can't see him…"

"Is that…_Weasley_?"

"Holy shit, I think it is! Which one is he?"

"The hell are you lot on about? There's no one there!"

"Adamson, you twat, they're _right by the DOOR_. Are you deaf, man?"

"Oi! It's Fred and Potter!"

"_Which ones_?"

"Bloody hell! It's James Potter!"

"Why d'you reckon they're here?"

"OUT! OUT OF MY CLASSROOM _THIS INSTANT_!"

"WEASLEY! POTTER! OUT FROM UNDER THOSE DESKS RIGHT NOW OR I'LL HAVE YOUR MOTHERS FLOO HERE, _DO YOU UNDERSTAND_?"

James wondered what he'd ever done to the Fates to piss them off so thoroughly. It's not as if _he_ had cheated death a bajillion times- that was his father. He'd always been a good little boy (he could already hear his mother's snorts of indignation), he'd never murdered someone… So why did Merlin think it fair to have the Fates come round for tea then say, "Oi, look at that handsome fellow down there! Give him your worst, ladies. Now, how about some biscuits?"

James _didn't understand_.

Suddenly, he snapped back into reality to hear Fred's shrieks. "I'm too pretty to die, Professor! Come now, Minnie, my complexion is just _awful_ for black and white photographs- imagine how _ghastly_ they'd make me look on the Daily Prophet obituaries! It would leave a very mangled version of my legacy behind. People will never know such beauty as mine, you have to let me live! _For the children_, love! Do it for them if anyone!"

Fred _really_ had to learn when to shut up.

"Yes, Minnie, pull harder on my ear," James said. "Not like it isn't cutting of my circulation or anything, _do_ carry on." He tried to jerk his head away, resulting in an even firmer grip.

"Mr. Potter, I assure you that you will indeed survive - there's no need to ramble off into a speech about a heroic death!" McGonagall had the pairs' ears in a death grip and was dragging them off to her office.

Fred looked spooked. "She knows us too well, this is getting scary."

"Well, I'd imagine having our own chairs in her office would've proved to you how close we are. We're just a merry band of mates, aren't we?" said James, again trying to break free from McGonagall's iron grip only to have her hold on tighter.

"Ever since we were five and gave Kitty Minnie a bubble bath."

"Remember when our parents finally came home and she was so mad that she bit Uncle Ron right in the ar-"

"_Mr. Potter_! Language!"

"Look, James! She's doing the lip thing!"

"Ooh, d'you think we'll get a visit from our dear friend Valerie the Forehead Vein?"

"Though I was a Transfiguration professor, I have a _very_ strong silencing charm, boys, would you like me to prove it?" the Headmistress asked wearily, sighing in frustration. Both boys hastily and profusely shook their heads.

"Not at all, your Royal Meow-ness."

"Indeed, Madame McTabby." There was a long pause in conversation as McGonagall's robes swooped threateningly (quite literally, actually, James and Fred nearly tripped over them about a dozen times) and she hauled the two very _heavy_, very _strong_ teens to her office where she was surely going to bite their heads off.

_No_, McGonagall thought. _I am going to slowly and _painfully_ gorge on their pretty little necks. _She stopped for a second during their lovely stroll and thought, quite mournfully so, that James and Fred were, just like Ron and Harry, a perfect reflection of James and Sirius. She knew how _proud_ the two would be to see their offspring (she could just hear Sirius: "He's mine in every way but blood. He's my god-grandson, dammit!").

The headmistress continued walking, her thoughts still wandering though. James would nod and smile knowingly at his friend, but beam at his grandson in awe at everything he did (especially if it involved quidditch or pranks, so basically anything James did). Professor McGonagall went of into a sort of trance reminiscing about the times before Voldemort, before the prophecy, before any of the horrible things she'd endured.

"Uh, Professor?" asked Fred tentatively. "I think we've reached your office, see that's the gargoyle right there." He pointed and McGonagall nodded slowly but stared blankly off into the distance.

"Have you forgotten your password?" James jumped in softly, able to tell by the far-off look on his Headmistress's face that he should be very gentle with her. For now. "It's alright, I know it, I can say it for you."

That shook McGonagall out of her depressing reverie quickly. "No, you most certainly will _not_!" she snapped. She released her grip on the boys' ears (they both sighed in relief) and stood in front of the gargoyle. "How, pray tell, do you know my password when I just changed it last night?"

"Er…" Fred looked to James for support. James shrugged. "Magic?"

"Magic, indeed! Alas, that is not why you are here." McGonagall sent a pointed looked in their direction. "_But_," McGonagall cautioned (the two groaned), "this does not mean we won't revisit the topic later on."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it Minnie. Let's go in, shall we?" James asked, as if it were _his_ office he was inviting her into. "I open at the close," he whispered. After Harry's final battle with Voldemort, he'd slept for two days and was then dragged up to the Headmistress's office (by Ginny, naturally,) to tell those he trusted exactly what had happened, both in the past few months and the past few days. This, of course, included the part about the snitch, at which Dumbledore's portrait smiled and Snape's scowled, though he seemed mildly impressed at Harry's accomplishments. Then they'd decided just how much information was safe to release to the public. The gargoyle bowed his head respectfully and stepped aside, revealing a very familiar staircase.

The three of them ascended up the steps, but not without James bowing dramatically and gesturing for the others to enter before him. "Thanks, Gareth!" Fred called absently as they reached the top of the stairs.

McGonagall shot him a questioning look. "Gareth?" she asked, half-heartedly curious.

"Yeah, see, we've become very close to him over the years- y'know, the tri-weekly visits and whatnot- so we've decided to name him, out of respect," James explained. McGonagall snorted at the word "respect." James continued, "So, what better than 'Gareth the Gargoyle'? I think it's rather fitting. Apparently Gareth was the name of a knight for this bloke Arthur. There was something about a table and swords? It's all rather fuzzy in my mind, really, probably due to the fact that it's stored in the part of my brain near my sex-capades with Cara Wilbo-"

"Mr. Potter!" scolded McGonagall sharply. Her eyes widened at the sheer boldness and nerve of her student, but she was also wondering what on earth Cara was doing with him when Neville, Filius, and her had spent the better part of the past three years trying to get her together with Henry Chapman- endless hours spent over organizing seating arrangements, making sure quidditch practices were on separate days so the two would be forced to do rounds together… All to have Cara shag bloody James. **(A/N: Oh, honestly. The Hogwarts professors aren't exactly subtle in their shipping of students. Ron and Hermione? James i and Lily i? Come **_**on**_**.)**

Fred raised an auburn eyebrow. "In the Cara part of your brain, mate?"

"She's a violent bird, that one," said James, stepping into the office as they'd stopped on the steps to question him and his ways. McGonagall and Fred followed and seated themselves (Fred in McGonagall's chair at first, but he hastily scampered to his custom chair after she gave him a look).

"Violent, eh?" Fred asked, shifting around in his chair. James nodded, resting his elbows on the armrests and propping his chin on his palm. "Duly noted." _Must remember to organize a meeting with Neville and Filius soon to discuss keeping Cara away from any and all redheads, _McGonagall thought.

McGonagall looked on the interaction amusedly. Six years and she's still not used to it. "Now, I feel that telling you that you must stop disrespecting your professors and pouring things into their drinks-"

"Actually, McKitty, we didn't pour anything into Bean-o's drink. We just cast a few very powerful Cheering charms and transfigured a few things in his office into toads- after researching and finding out he has an irrational fear of and is highly allergic to them," Fred corrected, smirking proudly and propping his feet on her desk. Fred turned to James and whispered, "I think dear Valerie the Vein might be making a guest appearance, mate." James nodded, eyeing McGonagall's forehead curiously and McGonagall cleared her throat.

"If anything, you should be _commending_ us and our magical abilities, not admonishing them. Really, isn't it your duty as an educator to encourage us to apply what we learn in school to every day life? Pranking Zabini is part of our every day life," James said in a patronizing tone of voice, wagging his finger at his headmistress.

"_As I was saying_," McGonagall said, shoving Fred's feet off her desk, "I feel it would be foolish to reprimand you as it has no effect. And detentions have become pointless as well since you seem to clean the trophy room rather quickly without your wands- though we both know that is not the case," James and Fred grinned mischievously, "and you sweet-talk your way out of other detentions, I've come up with other forms of punishment." The duos' faces blanched as their minds raced with all the possibilities. Washing the Slytherin's laundry? An apprenticeship with Filch? _Having their mums floo over to yell at them?_

"And those would be?" Fred asked in a very strangled tone. James's eyed widened in anticipation.

McGonagall grinned evilly and James swore he saw Satan holding a pitchfork and laughing amidst flickering flames in her eyes. She grinned sadistically at the frightened teens' expressions, "Well, I'm not about to go and tell you all of them so you can figure out ways to escape them, am I? For now, I'd say being in charge of all the Halloween Feast preparations would be justifiable." James and Fred sagged into chairs, defeated, but only slightly. "However," they jerked upright, "you will not be allowed to use magic and you will be supervised at all times."

"Come now, love, isn't that a tad extreme for just wanting our dear Potions Master to cheer up?" asked Fred cheekily, winking at his Headmistress who was definitely not amused. James shifted uncomfortably in his seat and began patting his pockets like he was searching for something in them.

"Firstly, Mr. Weasley, I am not, nor will I _ever_ be, your love. Secondly, not only did you cast remarkably strong cheering charms on a professor, you turned his belongings into an animal that could have killed him and instigated a school-wide food fight. Thirdly, I think it's appropriate for all the trouble you will undoubtedly get into in the time between now and then. Think of it as an accumulative punishment," McGonagall said, worn out. She glared at an amused portrait of Albus Dumbledore who was leaning in his chair and chuckling as well as a haughty, snuffy Severus Snape who was muttering about Harry and namesakes and grandfathers. James could've sworn he'd heard McGonagall hiss, "Shut up, Snivellus" to Snape's portrait.

"All right, Min, let's set a few things straight. First off, the toads would'nt've _killed_ him, just temporarily hospitalized him. What do you take us for, love? Criminals?" James scoffed. "Second off, _Peeves_ started the food fight, not us. You don't see him getting detentions, do you? Lastly, I have a non-rhetorical question. Is this Halloween-dealio a punishment for all the trouble we get into between now and the feast?" Minerva nodded apprehensively. "So, technically, we can get into loads of trouble between now and then and that will be our only punishment?" McGonagall's eyes widened as she realized the implications he was making. James and Fred nodded satisfactorily. Dumbledore sniggered in a corner while Snape continued his incessant cynic mutterings.

"Well, this has been a lovely chat, dear, but we really must be on our way," said James, gathering his things as Fred did the same. "Owl us about this Halloween Feast shite!" The pair shot up out of their personalized chairs.

They were gone before you could say, "Language, Mr. Potter!"

**A/N: And, erm, that was it. Enjoyed it? Hated it? Either way, subscribe! Why? I don't know, mate, I just spent an hour studying the different parts of the eye and nothing makes sense anymore. Trust me, you don't want to know. So, who do you think is our **lo**vely, apparently **u**ntrustworthy prom**is**e-breaker? And what's with the punishment McGonagall's issued? And what in the hell is with all the fuss over the Kitchens? And what's wrong with Artemis and Veela Lover-boy, if anything at all? Why am I asking so many questions? Am I trying and failing at utilising the lost art of subtlety? **

**You know you love me.**

**XOXO,**

**Gossip Girl**

**(I'M SORRY, BUT I HAD TO!)**

**P.S. Just wondering, have any of you read the Mortal Instruments series? I just started and, blimey, it's fantastic. If you've not read it, I recommend giving it a go! Okay, I'll go now.**

**P.P.S. I LOVE REVIEWS. Alright, bye again. For realsies, though.**


	4. Going Downhill Is Faster

**A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I hope you've all had an enchanting past couple of weeks. Mine have been… Interesting, to say the least. (Petty little Typical Teen Problems- crushes [HE SAID MY NAME THAT MEANS HE KNOWS WHAT IT IS AND THAT I EXIST!], drama, school, almost fainting due to sleep deprivation, etc.) So this chapter was tricky. I didn't quite like some of the choices I made and I'm not too fond of the length but I'm going to relay my ever-useful excuse to you again: Stuff happens here that is essential to the plot later on (later on, when hopefully good writing will begin to make its appearance and an actually interesting plot will develop as well!).**

**So, without further ado…**

Going Downhill Is Faster But Who Cares About Speed When You're In Hell

Dinner had been surprisingly peaceful. No one had exploded anything, no one had tempestuous outbreaks of anger, no couples engaged in blaring arguments. It was nice. The students ate in unified contentedness and chatted pleasantly amongst themselves. Even the Gryffindors were able to make it through the first five minutes without yelling at each other to shove over and give a bloke or girl a bit of space, as they were prone to. McGonagall resided in her seat with a fulfilled smile and calm disposition, inwardly dancing with joy at the possible maturity being presented to her by her student body. Lily Potter was able to ensconce herself at the Slytherin table next to Jake without having to face the judging stares and snooty comments people made under their breath when they thought she wasn't listening. Albus was able to enjoy a meal where his best mate and his cousin weren't at each others' throats or shoving their tongues down each others' throats but instead exhibited proper displays of affection that didn't give certain people pains in their eyes and mental scars and instead they produced amiable conversation. Louis was able to persuade a weary Artemis to sit with him and the two chatted warmly without producing any explosive arguments and even made snogging plans without receiving a lecture on the objectifying of women.

In short, dinner was lovely.

But it all just sort of went downhill from there.

* * *

"Wanna know what's rubbish?" James asked, lazily toying with his wand as Fred sent charmed paper airplanes flying at younger students. The two were hanging around the Clock Tower Courtyard, passing time between homework and curfew (also known as: prank completion period). "_Homework_. Homework is total rubbish."

"That it is, mate," said Fred, who was now setting first-year's pants on fire. They'd just learned the _Augamenti _charm anyways, so they'd be fine if they were sharp enough. Possibly.

"Know what else is rubbish?" James said. Fred grunted. "_Girls_. Girls are complete rubbish. They are ruddy rubbish _personified_."

"Have you got something you'd care to share with the class?" Fred asked, discreetly dying Frank Noble's hair green (Frank had asked out Roxanne a few days previous).

"Gam-a-tronica is bloody rubbish," James sighed, now enlarging Frank Noble's ears to an even greater size than they were previously which was in fact rather large- his nickname was Ele-Frank Noble.

"Beg your pardon?" said Fred, his lips quirking upwards into a sadistic smile as a group of girls pointed and giggled at Ele-Frank's appearance.

"Sorry, I mean Artemis. She's rubbish. Don't you agree?" James said, lazily scanning the Marauder's Map unwittingly searching for the one name that had been pressed into his mind like an instinct. Artemis's determined appearance in his mind was just as natural and persistent as an inborn instinct, like knowing how to breathe, how to eat, etc. It felt right when not giving it much thought, but disconcerting and a bit troubling when recognized (which hadn't quite happened yet- again, our James isn't the sharpest tool in the shed).

"_Gam-a-tronica_," Fred said, trying the nickname out. "I like it. Fitting."

"Either way," James said, giving Fred a little glare, "she's rubbish."

"I dunno, mate, she's a well good kisser," said Fred. He smirked, knowing it would irk James as he had not experienced these snogging skills for himself.

"Don't gloat, it isn't becoming," James said dryly.

"I'd say I'm still attractive," huffed Fred. He looked around the courtyard briefly, grinning when his eyes landed on a fit Hufflepuff sixth-year, Ella Ketteridge. "Hey, Ketteridge!" he called out.

The brunette turned around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she spotted Fred. "Yeah, Weasley?" she yelled back.

"Hogsmeade next weekend?" he said. James rolled his eyes. A group of girls near Ella giggled uncontrollably.

Ella scrunched up her face in thought. "Sure," she shouted indifferently, though she grinned a bit. "Owl me the details, Weasley!" Fred grinned and gave her a thumbs up. Ella turned back to her still-giggling friends and told them to shut up and get over it.

"See? I still got it," said Fred. He sighed and leaned back onto a pillar, placing his hands behind his head. "And, yeah, 'Gam-a-tronica' is rubbish. A very strange sort of rubbish. Who can kiss well." James grunted and began moodily stabbing the grass with his wand, inadvertently setting blades of graze ablaze. Fred looked weary and a little disturbed. "So, want to tell me what else is rubbish, mate?"

"Yes, yes I _would_ like to. But, you see, I can't because bloody _everything_ is rubbish. Rubbish is rubbish. Homework is rubbish. Gam-a-fucking-tronica is rubbish. Louis I'm-going-to-choose-to-start-dating-seriously-_now_-of-all-times-to-piss-off-my-handsome-cousin Weasley is rubbish. In fact, he is the _epitome_ of rubbish. All rubbish hails down to him and his supreme rubbishness. You wanna know why? _Because he's such bloody rubbish_," James said, feeling very strongly about educating the world on what is rubbish (everything) and what isn't (nothing).

You could say he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Though, that's true of anyone who woke up drenched in ice-cold water- there's no way to wake up on the right side of the bed in that case.

"Ten," Fred said confidently, nodding his head assuredly. James wasn't sure who he was assuring.

"I'm sorry?" James asked.

"Ten," Fred repeated, as if James was meant to understand the apparently obvious significance of the number. The two began to move to a bench, as it was growing dark and everyone had cleared out for dinner. "You just said rubbish ten times."

"Well," James said, slightly miffed, "I happen to think quite a few things are rubbish."

"More like everything."

"Fred-"

"'_Life_ is rubbish, Fred!'" Fred mocked at a sour James, flailing his arms about dramatically. "'Gam-a-tronica is _rubbish_.'" James made a low growling sound and stabbed the ground with his wand again. "You know, I like how that sounds quite a bit, I really do. I'm gonna start calling her that. You don't think she'll mind?" James glared at Fred, as if to say "spare me and _shut up_." Fred paid no heed to James's teenage girl tendencies. "She might mind a little bit. Lou would throw a total fit, though. That'd be a right _laugh_ if he heard you called her Gam-a-tronica, even if mentally. Merlin, I'm so telling him."

"NO!" James growl-shouted. "Under no circumstances are you to tell him about… About any of this!"

"Specify, please," chirped Fred. James threw him a murderous look that would have scared most, but after seeing someone in nappies screaming for "mummy-milk" you can't really be that scared of them. Unless, you know, it was freaking _terrifying._

"'_Specify'_," James said, speaking through clenched teeth. Fred grinned and nodded. "The fact that I was asking about her, that I call her Gam-a-tronica, that I swore her into the Kitchens Oath, that I think I might fancy her, _any of this_," he stressed, running his hands through his hair. He and Fred were well-known jokers but at times, it got a bit much. Normally Fred would be able to take a hint, but today is just not Fred's day in the shutting-up department.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Fred said, holding up his hands. "_What did you just say_?" He grinned giddily, his knee shaking slightly in excitement.

"'Any of this,'" James said cautiously, eyeing Fred tiredly.

"Before that," pressed Fred, leaning forward in exasperation and anticipation.

"Gam-a-tronica?" asked James, not entirely sure what Fred was playing at. He didn't remember exactly what he was saying- it was more of a mindless ramble, a stream of consciousness if you will.

"After that," Fred urged.

"Kitchens Oath?" James said helplessly. _What the bloody hell is Fred playing at?_

"Don't play dumb with me, James! You said you fancy her!" cried Fred. Throwing his hands in the air. _Oi, _again _with the ruddy hand gestures,_ James thought, after being poked in the eye.

"No I didn't," protested James defensively. He looked confused, like he'd just been hit over the head with a bludger. "What are you on about?"

"Sweet Merlin, _you do_!" Fred shrieked. "You fancy her!"

"I-I don't," said James, mentally slapping himself for his voice faltering. _Why am I all nervous? _He wondered

"Don't sound too sure," said Fred triumphantly, smirking confidently, his arms crossed over his chest.

Realization dawned on James. "Fucking hell, I think I do!" he cried. He ran his hands through his hair. _Shiteshiteshiteshiteshite_.

"Just sussed it out, didn't you?" Fred grinned. "I know you better than you do yourself!"

"Why are you smiling?" demanded James. Fred noted that his eyes were wild, his breathing ragged, and his hair was sticking up at more angles than usual. "This is not okay! This is not good, this is-this is _bad_. Horrible. This cannot be happening. It cannot. Merlin, it _can't_."

Fred put a gentle hand on James's back. "Why don't you sit down," he suggested, worried about his friend. "Deep breaths." James sat down and his breathing regularized somewhat.

He had a sad, abandoned-puppy-dog look on his face_._ "Cigarette," James said. "I need a cigarette." Fred groaned.

"James, Pomfrey said the only she wouldn't tell McGonagall or your parents is if you quit," Fred said patronisingly. "So let's _not_ ruin our lungs and potentially give us respiratory issues that will stick with us for the rest of our hence shortened lives, yeah?"

James shot Fred a look. "Did you memorize the entire bloody pamphlet?"

"It was _boring_ just sitting there while you were being treated," Fred griped. "And Poppy wouldn't let me leave, the bloody tight-arse." James rolled his eyes. Only Fred would be able to be bored while his friend was in a practically fatal state of being. Perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps it wasn't, but James didn't really care because Fred was there when he needed him. "So I memorized the smoking pamphlet and Al got the pregnancy one- I've never seen him look so green."

James pulled a cigarette out of a box stowed away in his robes' pockets and placed it between his lips. He grinned around the cigarette. Fred cast a weary, slightly pleading look James's way, as if saying, "Quit now, while you can." James lit a match and held the flame towards the edge of his cigarette. He refused to cast a charm to light the cigarette, claiming it wasn't the same, which it wasn't to him. James had learned how to smoke when he was visiting his cousins in the muggle world the summer before fifth year and his cousin (second cousin?) had given him a match and told him to knock himself out. That hadn't been a particularly easy summer for James for a medley of legitimate reasons and he went against his better judgment and took a whiff. He immediately threw up and had to vanish his vomit off the pavement, causing him to burst into peals of laughter- the first time he'd done that in a while. He'd then taken to smoking in times of stress and no one had known until an exceptionally horrendous incident which he didn't like thinking about much.

"When you were staying with your muggle cousins, did you see that advert on their veletision-"

"Television," James absently corrected, the corners of his mouth twitching into a crooked grin as he took a drag of his cigarette. Fred rolled his eyes.

"Right. So did you see that advert with the woman with the hole in their neck?" Fred pressed. James wondered where he was going with this, amongst other thoughts, the loudest of them asking how in the hell Fred even knew what a television advert was, let alone a specifically grisly one as the one he described- especially considering that he even said television incorrectly. Merlin only knew what Fred did in his free time.

"No, Fred, I did not." James sighed, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He watched the smoke spiral and dissipate into the air gracefully. That was why he smoked in times of stress; the swirls and coils soothed him. In his most brood-ish and inwardly pretentious moments, James rather liked to think that life was like smoke. It started out with a clear path, going in one undeviating direction, full of anticipation and thoughts of the future. Then at one point, the smoke begins to disperse and life becomes unsettlingly uncertain and ambiguous. At first, it's slow and hardly noticeable until the breaking point where the smoke curls up into its final coil and fades away only seconds later, in a sickeningly wondrous manner which humans called death. **(A/N: I know. That made me cringe too. I'm not even entirely sure why I wrote it in the first place. Ahh, my life is a mess.)**

But then again, James had taken to comparing everything to life after spewing poetic nonsense about how love was like a platter of eggs got him lucky.

"Well, in the advert, there's this woman and she's got this massive hole in her neck-" Fred began, taking the zealous, ardent tone of a practiced storyteller speaking to a group of eight-year-old boys about gruesome battles.

"Funnily enough, I gathered as much on my own," James said. Fred made an impatient noise. "Now may I ask why a woman has a gaping hole in her neck in the first place?" James briefly thought it could be a love bite gone horribly wrong, but quickly dismissed the idea on account of the strangeness it contained and the pains it gave his brain.

"That's a very good question, James." Fred beamed and James was suspicious but didn't have nearly enough energy to care. "A very good question indeed. In fact, I'm glad you asked that," Fred said, still grinning. "She," he announced, "was a smoker for 15 years." James sighed seeing where this was going. Fred, hard as he tried, the poor sod, was horrible at utilizing subtlety. His thinly veiled pleads were still appreciated by James, however. At least his best mate didn't want him to have a crater in his neck. That's always a comforting thought.

In response James significantly and dramatically brought the cigarette back to his only slightly parted lips and inhaled deeply, winking at Fred who was actually doing a good job at veiling his true feelings at this point. Because, you see, Fred was beginning to get irritated. And cross. Very cross indeed.

James slowly drew the cigarette away from his mouth and exhaled dramatically, as if sighing, allowing the cloud of smoke to pour out at an angle where Fred would get a clear view of it.

James grinned wickedly.

His jaw set and fists clenched, Fred rose to his feet. James did not notice this and was henceforth not prepared when Fred angrily snatched the cigarette from James's grip and defiantly dropped it to the ground, his foot apoplectically grinding it into the ground and extinguishing any and all sparks.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" demanded James, now standing up as well.

"Hole," said Fred. "Neck." He gestured to a spot on his neck. "Lungs." He pat his ribcage.

"Look, Fred," James began, "I appreciate that you care about my health or whatever, but trust me, I can handle this."

"Yeah," said Fred indignantly. "Handle it. I'm sure you can, just like you did last year." He brushed grass off his clothes.

James felt his chest deflate and an uneasy feeling set in the pit of his stomach. "Fred-"

"No, it's fine, mate. You can handle it, I get it." James sighed. "I'll just leave you to _handle it _on your own." Fred angrily stalked off and James sighed again. This day was turning out to be less 'hormones and hoaxes' and more… Hell in a hand basket.

James pulled out another cigarette, unsure as to what else to do. He and Fred hardly got into fights and when they did, it was generally over something petty like which color to dye the Slytherin's hair and hence ended even quicker than they arose. This was… uncharted territory.

There were a few hours left until curfew and since he and Fred weren't likely to go around making mischief now, James had decided to respect and abide by curfew. He walked around the grounds for a bit, _evanesco_-ing his cigarettes as they burnt through. After about and hour and a half of aimless wandering, James found himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He lay down on the cold, hard ground **(A/N: Bloody Taylor Swift is brainwashing me.) **and stared up at the stars, blowing puffs of smoke and enjoying the way they'd clear up after a few moments and display the effortlessly stunning sky. After a while, the taste of cigarettes was making his stomach turn so he lit what he decided was his Final One and resolved to only to a drag at consistently longer intervals (of course, this was Final One Number Twenty-Two of the night, so that really didn't mean much). James held the cigarette in his long, crooked-from-quidditch fingers, placed at his side. He heard footsteps frantically approaching and, without getting up or showing any signs of panic (that's how you get caught) cast a breath-freshening charm and an air purifying charm to get rid of the stale stench of cigarette smoke. However, there was no time to hide the cigarette and, anyways, if whoever was coming saw the cigarette but there was no smoke or smell, he or she would dismiss it, thinking they must have imagined it. He held it by his side, hoping his robes might help keep the smoke away from the approaching person's line of sight.

So, just to top it all fucking off, Artemis Portelo stepped onto the roof of the Astronomy Tower, her gait hurried, angry, and perhaps even a little panicked. But James really wasn't in any state to be deciphering someone's gait.

James, still not aware of who was inching towards him, decided to play it cool and stare at the stars. This aloof-business did not last very long seeing as a flopping noise and a muffled, animalistic shriek-groan interrupted his stargazing. James turned around to find the source of the noise and held back a shriek-groan of his own.

"Of fucking course," she said.

"Nice to see you too, Artemis," James said dryly.

"_You_," Artemis said, her eyes narrowing. James squinted. Were those tear tracks he spotted on her cheeks? He determined they were then felt a strange happiness settle over him. Shouldn't he be _upset_ over his crush's crying? But perhaps James was relieved at the thought that Artemis had some vulnerability, some weakness. In his head, Artemis was held up on a pedestal so high it reached Mars. This pedestal wasn't exactly one of admiration, but more… Horror and fear it would crush him. So the fact that Artemis was not some sort of perfect superhuman was reassuring and humbling. "You bleeding Weasley are fucking _everywhere_," she said, sounding like the definition of exasperated and a bit tired. She sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs then rest her forehead on her knees.

At the sound of Artemis's distraught voice, a pang resonated through James's chest. James was too eager to find the source of her sadness and possibly smash it into a million pieces to take much notice to that. "I'm sorry?" he said innocently, not sure what to say not to distress her further. She snapped her head up and he flinched instinctively. Artemis's expression softened and she gave him a small smile. She scooted over to where he was lying down.

"You're so adorable!" she said, ruffling his hair a little. James's breath got caught in his throat. Normally, he would have responded with: "And let's not forget about my ruggedly handsome looks." But, to James, this just didn't seem like the time to make a sarcastic comment. Which was a first. He also blushed at her comment. Another first. Artemis looked at him with an unidentifiable expression and stretched out right next to him. "I'm cold," she said blatantly.

James was suddenly aware of their clothes rustling against each other, her hair, spread out around her head, tickling his neck, the smell of jasmine and cinnamon and the smoke a firecracker emits when fired just right wafting over from her direction, their knees touching, her steady breaths, her hand slipping into his, their fingers intertwining…

Wait, _what?_

_Keep it cool, Potter, _he cautioned himself. _Handholding means nothing. It means dung. Beautiful, amazing, wondrous du- NO! Just. Dung._

"Don't call me a cliché just yet, but I absolutely love the stars," she said softly. James nodded weakly, unable to say or do much else. _Her thumb and my thumb touching, her forefinger and my forefinger touching, her middle finger and my middle finger touching, her ring finger and my ring finger touching, her pinky and my pinky touching. Touching touching touching all touching. _Artemis shifted around a bit. "They remind me of those connect the dot pictures we used to do when we were younger, remember?"

"Colour-Me Crup's Colouring Book," James said, nodding. "I used to always magically change the dots around to form dungbombs" – _holding hands means dung _– "or some shite like that. Drove my mum mad." James's eyebrows were raised slightly due to his disbelief at being able to form words at all, let alone complete sentences. Artemis laughed gently. _Good, she's laughing, you've made her laugh. Keep going, James._

"I'd imagine you would give your mum hell." James grinned sheepishly. He attempted to wandlessly and wordlessly vanish his cigarette, but to no avail. "I mean, with all the stories Louis's told me-" Artemis's eyes widened a bit and she paused.

"Is he why you're upset?" James ventured carefully, rubbing circles on her thumb. She snuggled into his side more but otherwise made no noises or movements. _Touching touching touching touching._ James sighed. Artemis murmured something quickly then looked up at sky nonchalantly. "Care to repeat that?"

"Not particularly."

"Fine, I'll just take my body heat elsewhere." James shifted around as if about to get up, which he wouldn't dare do, but thankfully Artemis reacted first.

"No! No," she said seriously. "Yes. I mean, yes, it was Louis."

"That's all I wanted to know," James said quietly. Artemis let out a shaky breath and rested her head on James's chest. _Touching touching touching. Touching like my fist will with Louis's face. Touching touching touching touching._

"You're a real sweet bloke, James," Artemis said. She sniffled and James kept himself from glancing over at her face, figuring she wouldn't want him to see her in a state of vulnerability. "I mean, I barge in here all angry and yelling and then I cannonball myself at you and you just take it all like a gentleman." She chuckled. "Who'd have guessed it, James Potter, Hogwart's resident Heartbreaker: a proper gentleman." James deflated. _Heartbreaker? _"Must be a Potter trait."

Despite the fact that all this_ touching-touching-touching _was just about to push James over the brink of insanity and he hadn't taken a drag in a while, James somehow mustered up the loyalty in his body and said, "You know, I understand you're dating Louis and all but there's some" –James searched for a word- "_things_ he won't tell you. Not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't know how to say it or isn't entirely aware of it. But these things affect him in weird ways, so if it seems like he's acting weirdly for no reason, just remember this. 'Cause I get it too." James was shocked that he was giving the girl he fancies relationship advice, but the words somehow just came out naturally. But then again, so does vomit.

Artemis stared at him. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what these _things_ are, are you?"

"That would be a no."

"But you know _how_ to express them, unlike Louis."

"Yes." James shifted uncomfortably.

Artemis sighed. "James, if you ever find a bird you really like, save the dear the heartache and tell her," she said sadly. Artemis began to get up and James immediately jumped up to help her, accidentally (and very, very noticeably) dropping the cigarette. Artemis's eyes flew to the cigarette and a strange sort of look passed over her. James gave her an uneasy grin. "What," she spat, murderously glaring at the cigarette as if willing it to burn out faster, "is _that_ doing here?"

"What is what doing here, Artemis?"

"I saw you vanish the cancer stick, James, I'm not stupid."

James could feel his heart hammering against his chest like it wanted to jump out of his body and onto a silver platter to appease Artemis. There was a horrible, horrible sensation in his stomach, like his insides were about to feast on each other. "I-I," he began helplessly, not sure what to say. James was sure he could have handled the situation much more smoothly if Artemis hadn't reacted the way she had. There was something about that look she had when she saw the cigarette that seemed personal, perhaps? James wasn't sure, but he had never seen that much loathing built up in one person, even in his father when someone said that people were making mountains out of molehills with the whole Voldemort tragedy.

"You," Artemis said, bending over to grab the cigarette from the floor, "are never going to go so much as _near_ a cigarette ever again." She put the cigarette out with her shoe and held her hand out expectantly. James stared at her. "Don't lie and say it was a one-time thing and you don't have a box," she said. "I know you do, so give it here." James handed her the box, completely confused and unsure as to what was going on.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Artemis grinned widely. "Again with the adorableness!" she exclaimed. She reached out to push some hair away from his face and noticed his now scarlet-with-embarrassment ears. "Oh, I just love it when you Weasleys' ears get all red like that!" She glanced at her watch and sighed. "Well, I'd best be going to sort things out with Louis now." She reached down to pick up her schoolbag and made her way out. "Cheers, mate!"

James stood there for a moment in shock.

"And don't think I'm not absolutely, positively _livid _at you for smoking," Artemis called, somehow maintaining a venomous and cheery tone simultaneously.

James let out a shaky laugh of disbelief and leaned against the wall. He slid down till he was seated on the ground and ran his hands through his hair. _Note to self: After bribing Fred into speaking to you again, remember to tell him that Gam-a-tronica is not only rubbish, she is also bipolar._

**A/N: And this brings the end of my pre-written bits. Expect longer breaks in between updates, along with spoiler tidbits I'll publish or give to the _th reviewer in your near future, loves! **

**Also, I'm terribly sorry for all the writing clichés I packed into here.**

**Word Count (not including title or A/Ns): 4,450**

**Page Count (in Microsoft Word): 12 **

**Cliché Count: 1,550,345,101,798,970**

**Huh. Interesting.**


	5. Do I Wanna Know?

**A/N: **I thought I was busy before but that old bitch Life has thrown me a few curveballs recently. I'm truly very sorry about not uploading sooner. I'd had the first half of this (pathetically short and kind of filler-y) chapter written a while ago but there were a few decisions I had to make concerning the story's plot and then it got all very confusing as I'm shite with decisions so I decided to just gooooo with the floooow and write as I pleased. And that would've been all well and good until I ran into Life's best friend, Writer's Block. Huzzah**.**

Anywho, I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Do I Wanna Know?

"Freeeeeeeeeeeed," James sang, creeping into the dorm. After his incredibly strange run-in with Artemis-he would still be trying to make sense of it if he hadn't given up thinking about it due to the pains it caused his brain, James had wandered around the campus for another half hour trying to understand what just happened and also giving Fred some extra time to cool down until he noticed curfew was drawing near and he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Fred had apparently made brilliant use of this time. By sleeping. (Or, rather, making a complete mess of his bedding and flopping down onto it then groaning and moaning for a bit.)

"Go 'way, 'm sleep'n," Fred mumbled, his face pressed up into his duvet. His owl hooted indignantly. James rolled his eyes.

"Freeeeediiieee," James crooned, his chin propped up on Fred's mattress, only inches away from his face.

"'M gonna punch you 'f y'don' shift and shut up." James grinned.

"Oh you poor, bespeckled ginger," he sighed. Fred only continued making noises in his mess of blankets. "You poor, ignorant, bespeckled ginger." James leaped onto the bed into a sitting position and sighed once more, this time dramatically resting his cheek in his palm. Fred's leg swiftly swung out of the bedding and struck James in… well, Fred kicked him where the sun don't shine, so to speak.

Fred smiled contentedly as he heard James fall to the ground and make a pained noise. "'M gon' sleep now," he said happily, grinning like an idiot beneath his duvet. "N'more 'nnoying cous'ns, no sir."

"It's not Louis, mate," James said in a strained voice, his hands over his crotch and his face contorted into a grimace of pain. He got up from the floor, kicked off his shoes, and moved over to sit on his bed, a safe distance away from any of Fred's surprisingly strong limbs. "'S James!" He reclined onto his bed, his hands behind his head and legs stretched out.

James heard a rustling noise and smiled smugly. Fred poked his head out from underneath his pile of blankets that he was somehow breathing through and he cracked an eye open. He glanced at James and James winked. Fred groaned again. "You're worse though," he griped. "I mean, sure, Louis was whinging like a three-year-old, you know, he was all, 'She's just gone postal on me for no reason what do I dooooo.' But _you_, you're all, 'I just can't fancy her boo hoo for me I'm going to be self-destructive now. Ugh, my life suuucks,'" Fred imitated with a not entirely realistic flair of melodrama. He rearranged his blankets a little, finding its beginning and end and whatnot, then placed his pillows behind his neck. "It's like, bully for you!" James suddenly found himself wondering why, exactly, he wanted to come up and be with Fred. "Life's a bitch then you die. Get over it."

"That's a rather grim outlook on things," James said, snorting. Fred shot him a look.

"Says the git who, not two hours ago, was practically suicidal," he said pointedly. James pursed his lips. Sure, he was frustrated and possibly ready to slip something into Louis's drink, but _suicidal_? That might have been exaggerating a bit much. However, James was in no place to argue so he merely made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat which most definitely did not act as a deterrent to Fred's rant. "As the clear-minded one of the room, I can assure you this one basic fact of being: Life is a bitch and then you die. Accept it and move on, a talent it seems you will be needing to use in the near future as per the fact that you fancy your cousin's girlfriend."

James's eyes bugged out. "Shh!" he whispered harsly. "Not so loud! Christ, Fred." Fred rolled his eyes.

"'S not like he's going to _hear_ me or anything," Fred reasoned. James suspiciously glanced around the dorm, checking to see if anyone was there or perhaps if any extendable ears were hanging about, the unlikeliness of such a situation being overshadowed by the enormity of the fact that Fred was saying all that _out loud_. Fred, however, being the clear-minded one in the room (for what may have been the first time) as he correctly established a few minutes previous, was able to sense the probability in such a scenario actually happening and continued on to say (or, rather, shout), "TO EVERYONE WHO MAY BE LISTENING, JAMES HAS A GREAT, BIG CR-"

James, his senses still on fear/anxiety-induced overdrive, heard a few steps approaching the doorway and saw the doorknob gradually turn, as if time had been slowed down for that moment. James seized the four-second window of opportunity he'd been given and leaped off his bed onto Fred's and then pushed him to the ground, As the door opened, James pinned Fred down between his legs and plastered his hands over Fred's mouth.

In came Louis and out went Fred's faith in probability.

Louis paused and quirked an eyebrow upwards. "Would you two like a room?"

Fred was just not having any of it. "NO! NO!" he shouted, somewhat demandingly. "YOU ARE NOT HERE RIGHT NOW! LEAVE! OUT!" Fred seemed to be trying to get up and shove Louis out the doorway, but James's grip was too strong. Fred hissed. "You, _you_ need to leave so he can… so I'll… LEAVE!"

"So you're one of_ those _boyfriends," Louis said, grinning. "Clingy." Fred lifted his head a few inches and pounded it against the floor a few times.

This had recently (as in, approximately yesterday) become a bit of a trigger word for James, initiating a practically instant reaction, like "quidditch" or "fudge" or "broom closet" does. What James did next is something he immensely regretted and made him want to curl up into a ball for all eternity.

"Like you can talk about the proper behaviour of a boyfriend," he snorted with all the derisiveness, snideness, and sheer scorn he could muster.

It just… It just sort of _came out_ against his will- like his own mouth betrayed him. Yes, that's what he'd tell people. It was his _mouth's _fault, not his. If anyone were to blame, it was his mouth. It wasn't as if his brain controlled his mouth after all. Oh, wait. It was.

So the traitorous mouth-that-is-controlled-by-a-brain-but-we-don't-t hink-about-that-bit-much continued to get itself in an even bigger mess.

"Beg your pardon, mate?" Louis asked through gritted teeth in his most polite tone that simultaneously suggested he kind of sort of wanted nothing more than to suffocate James.

"Well," James began with some degree of self-importance. Fred attempted to get up and James pushed him back down to floor with an almighty shove. "I just don't think a girl would come crying to another bloke if she had a proper boyfriend is all."

Fred felt an overwhelming urge to thump his cousin on the head. The only issue is he couldn't pick which- they were both just so _thick._ Louis's spine immediately straightened. "What? How do you mean? She was crying- I made her cry? What did she say? When was this?" he demanded angrily, the (figurative) fire in his eyes almost matching Fred's non-figurative ginger hair. "Hold on just at tick," he said, pausing in his giant slew of demands. "_She went to you?_" His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward.

Fred was somehow able to groan pathetically while James's foot was crushing his throat.

"Yeah, she did, and what do you plan on doing about it?" James taunted, subconsciously grinning wickedly. "Are you going to _forbid_ her from seeking comfort from others when you upset her?" James laughed cruelly.

"James, of all the times to be a sarcastic arse," Louis sighed, resting his head in his hands, "you had to pick today. Any other day, literally, _any other day_, I would probably be in a good enough mood to partake in some witty banter but today is the one exception so could you _kindly cut me some bleeding slack for the love of Merlin._"

Louis did not raise his voice, which is generally a bad sign. The French love to exaggerate their guttural noises with a flourish and they live to dazzle you with their impeccably beautiful language and these are easily and more effectively accomplished by speaking loudly and with plentiful hand movements. When a Frenchmen speaks, he is putting on a show. And Louis, though he may be a Weasley, is most definitely a Frenchman to his core- something Fleur made absolutely sure of in raising him.

So when Louis spoke sans any eye-threatening hand movements or a medley of skilfully composed and crafted eye-rolls and sighs, it is understandable that James's heart dropped to his stomach.

Still, that didn't quite deter him from not particularly wanting Louis and Artemis to elope and have lots of one-eighth veela children.

So, unsure of how to remain in character while also not being sarcastic, James resorted to smirking. It could be a kindly smile or a devious grin but that, dear friends, is up to the eyes of the beholder. "Alright, mate, I'll break out the Honeyduke's Finest and the Odgen's and we'll have Fred-"

"We'll have Fred what?" Fred asked, having lifted James's foot off his throat for a few moments.

James shot him a look. "We'll have Fred fetch the eucalyptus-fiber tissues, just the way you like," James said, now moving his foot to Fred's mouth, "and we'll have ourselves a right sobfest."

Louis was not having this. He trudged to his bed and flopped down on it. "You're honestly not able to give me one day?" he asked, his voice muffled due to the fact that his face was stuffed in his pillow. James rolled his eyes, there were too many drama queens in this dorm for his taste. Speaking of Drama Queen Number Two, he licked James's foot, causing James to jump a metre in the air and squeal like the Womanizing Quidditch Captain he is. Fred instantly seized this small window of opportunity and pushed himself with a great deal of force to underneath his bed.

"Why am _I _the one who has to fetch the girly tissues?" Fred whinged.

"Because I did it last time," James answered happily. Louis groaned and pulled his covers over his head. This was just not his day and (hopefully) the sooner he accepted it, the faster it would end.

Of course, as Einstein once (well, probably more than once) said, time was relative, a lesson Louis's cousins seemed determined to make him understand.

"Yeah but you dropped them in here than ran off to snog somebody," Fred argued. James was able to ascertain that Fred had moodily crossed his arms over his chest underneath the bed.

"I'll have you know she was probably a very lovely witch," James stated.

"Or you were very drunk," Louis said, hoping to get a jab in at his two dunderheads for cousins. He liked to pretend that he wasn't related to them sometimes. It certainly made it easier to live with himself.

"Or I was very drunk," James amended. "Just as you will be in a few short hours! C'mon, mate, look alive." He cautiously poked Louis in the side, which did not quite appease Louis. "If you're dead, you can't get drunk so make a noise for me, Lou."

Louis, perhaps energized by the idea of intoxication, did more than make a noise. He made James make a noise, of the soprano variety. So in basic terms, Louis kicked him in his gruesome twosome.

"Least we know you've still got the fight in you, mate," James said in a strained voice, doubled over in pain. Fred snickered. "Quit laughing, arseface, and get us some alcohol for the love of bleeding Merlin."

Louis gave in and sat up straight in his bed.

"Did he get up?" Fred asked.

"Like a boy at a Playwizard stand, Freddie."

"Atta boy!"

A groan seemed appropriate.

* * *

"I'd like to start this drunkfest with a toast," Fred announced upon his re-arrival into the dormitory whilst crawling back under the bed for some reason.

"To hoping there's a terrible quidditch accident in which we all die," Louis proposed, miserably raising his glass.

Fred pounded on the nearby floor with his fist. James made an annoyed noise from the back of his throat. It became clear to Louis that his toast would not do.

"To being less oblivious, you horrendously vacuous shells which I am expected to believe hold an actual wizard," Fred said dryly, thrusting his drink into the air beside the underneath of his bed.

"To getting Fred off the drugs," Louis toasted.

"Cheers," James belched, having already downed a third of his firewhiskey. Fred presumably took a hefty sip of his firewhiskey as well. Louis merely stared at his bottle, pursing his lips in deep concentration.

There was an awkward silence for a moment until James decided that his daily quota for discomfort was nearing its fill so he resolved to eliminate whatever uncomfortable situations he could _before he bloody exploded_.

"So," he drawled out. "What'd you do, ya wanker?" A thrice more awkward silence ensued. James found the amount of discomfort almost enough to tip him over the edge. _Almost._

Louis remained silent while Fred hummed Celestina Warbeck to defuse the tension though it induced no such reaction. James knew he was near his breaking point and he was trying everything he could to distract himself from the awkwardness of the room- mentally reciting the alphabet backwards, visualizing the inside of Honeyduke's, attempting to remember the name of every girl he'd ever taken on a date- but nothing seemed to last long. Just as James was about to jump up and scream, it seemed someone else had snapped.

"THAT'S IT, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" Fred burst, getting out from below his bed. "YOU BOTH NEED TO GET YOUR RUDDY LIVES TOGETHER!" James's eyebrows shot up. He didn't think anything was wrong with _him_, just Louis. What was Fred going on about?

"James- you need to quit your bloody whining or Merlin help me, _I will shove my sock down your flippin' throat. _You think you're the only one with problems? Everybody's got problems! Most of us just don't go around broadcasting them to anyone who will listen. Godric, you can be so oblivious! You need to get off your high horse and take a look around, maybe not thinking of yourself for once," Fred said sharply.

James was stunned. He didn't broadcast his problems. He was most certainly not selfish nor was he oblivious. He didn't ride a high horse, Fred did! Who did he think he was, telling James what to do?

"And you," Fred growled, turning to face an already drunken Louis. "You have got to bloody get it together for the love of Merlin! Wallowing around in self-pity will get you absolutely nowhere. You're not in the right here and you know it and that's terrifying you. But guess what, hotshot? You're not bloody perfect. In fact, you're a long ways away from even half-decent at this point. You're a right _mess_ and you've got to get a grip. You can't even admit out loud to what you've done!

"You think that you're _special_, don't you? Merlin! You thought that you're just automatically a good person now because your parents were war heroes but _that's not what matters. _Being a good person isn't something that is inherited or just comes to someone- you make yourself a good person, _you work at it._ It's about making the right choice when it's so much easier not to and you've just realized this and you're trying to work out how you're the exception. You know what you've done is irrevocably wrong yet you think you're too goddamn important or whatever to accept that you've done it. You did something wrong and the only way to deal with this is by acknowledging it and apologizing."

Fred found himself suddenly out of breath from setting others' lives in order. James found himself even more stunned than before. Louis found himself sighing.

"You know then," he said plainly. He swished the whiskey around in his bottle and took another swig of the stuff.

Fred twitched a bit. "Yeah, I bloody _know_," he spat. "I'm no seer but anyone with eyes and a normal level of awareness unlike you two _gits_ could see."

James reached his boiling point.

"WHAT? WHAT DID YOU BLOODY DO?" he screeched. "WHAT IN ALL OF MERLIN'S GREEN GOODNESS COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY DONE THAT WAS SO FUCKING HORRIBLE?" James was, drunk, tired, exasperated, and in dire need for some answers. And possibly some treacle tart.

Fred and Louis exchanged a brief glance and Louis went back to staring at the ground sadly. Fred made a pained noise and set his face in his hands.

"Tell him," he ordered Louis. "_Tell him._" Louis bit his lip but otherwise showed no reaction. "If you can't even tell James you might as well drop out of Hogwarts 'cause you're no Gryffindor." James sucked in a breath. While James, Fred, and Louis acquiesced in being intervened upon and intervening as part of their friendship, it normally ended at a stern talking-to, such as the one Fred had just performed. Interventions weren't common but were acceptable.

Insulting each other's bravery was an extreme no-no.

James braced himself for a drunken brawl but yet… Louis didn't grow angry. Which only got James wondering more about what "wrong thing" Louis had done. There was nothing he could think of that would make himself so ashamed that he'd allow Fred or Louis or anyone, for that matter, to insult his bravery and get away without even a single scratch or at the very least being yelled at or hexed.

Louis cleared his throat and James immediately ceased his thoughts and wonderings to pay attention to what he was about to say.

"I hit Artemis."

And that went over like a ton of freaking bricks.

**A/N:** In the next chapter, you should (or _might_ be able to) expect a very conflicted James, Fred playing babysitter and guidance counsellor (yet again), **a special someone for Albus**, and a worried McGonagall.

The songs that I listened to during writing this that had a bit of an influence on what I wrote are as follows:

"Do I Wanna Know?" by Arctic Monkeys

"Under the Bridge" by Red Hot Chilli Peppers

"Breezeblocks" by Alt J

"Livin' On a Prayer" by Bon Jovi

"Carmen" by Lana Del Rey

"The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers

Give them a listen, they're great songs and are really quite pertinent to the chapter.

Hope you're all having a top summer!

xx


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